Into the Shadows (A Re-imagining of City of Bones)
by TakashiUmi
Summary: In a world where Shadowhunters care so much about public opinion, what will happen when one falls in love with a Downworlder? A Warlock named Jeff falls for Mark Nighthunter at the Pandemonium Club, but things start to spiral when they get summoned to L.A. & Valentine returns. (Contains quotes & descriptions from other works and Ms. Clare's. Support the official release)
1. Chapter 1

**1**

 **"It sounds plausible enough tonight, but wait until tomorrow. Wait for the common sense of the morning." ~H.G. Wells - The Time Machine**

 **New York, August 2007**

I don't know how long it has been since my life has seen any form of excitement. Well, I guess it is more exciting than most people's lives. That's just part of the territory when you aren't ordinary. I learned very quickly that I wasn't like everyone else. My eyes were a shade of blue as clear as an untouched oasis; my hair jet black, but possessed a sheen like stars in the night sky. People stopped me often to ask me what product I used to get that effect, but I never do anything to my hair. I never used to anyway. Now I hide my hair so that I don't get stopped. Some would wear hats, but I had another method, a spell.

Yes, magic is real, and that isn't all. There is so much more that we'll get to later as it comes up because this day was one of the least ordinary days of my life. It started as usual, but it was later that night when the pace began to quicken. I decided to hit up the local all-ages club that night and meet up with an old friend of mine. I sat in the VIP area and scanned the crowd. There was the usual mix of people from their mid 30s to their teens, or at least they appeared that age.

I immediately knew that something was going to happen tonight when I spotted a boy with blue hair. I don't believe that I recognized him, but I also haven't been to the club in a while. He was eyeing up another young woman in a flowing white dress with a pulsing red pendant dangling around her neck. I recognized the pendant, it was a rare one of a kind amulet that used to belong to my friend that was meeting me here tonight. He gave it to a Shadowhunter family many years ago now, and I imagined that this girl was part of that family. Her hair was a dark black, and she seemed to have this boy in a trance. He moved on her like a dog following a trail as she lead the way to a door in the back of the club marked for employees only.

It didn't take me long to spot the accomplices of this girl. I trained myself a long time ago to see through the glamor of a Shadowhunter, and a pair of muscular young men were making their way through the crowd. The club goers parted like when Moses parted the red sea, but I was certain they didn't know why they did so. That was how a glamor worked, the Mundanes would feel the sudden urge to get out-of-the-way, but it would seem natural. They wouldn't be suspicious of anything. They stopped outside of the door and I watched the blonde pull out a shimmering blade. Excitement, my heart jumped slightly and my gaze intensified.

"Jeff!" my friend finally showed up, his dark black hair spiked slightly, and his cat-like eyes hidden behind a spell, "How long has it been? 100 years?"

"Magnus," I smiled, "I see you're doing well. It has definitely been a while, but maybe I'll hang around a while. Seems like New York is quite exciting."

Magnus followed my gaze to the two boys who then slipped into the back as well, "Shadowhunters. They don't come here often and it looked like they were going to cause trouble."

"Yes, a girl went back there with a blue haired boy. You probably know her," I paused and looked up to the ceiling, "What was their family name again? Herondale? Lightwood? The ones with the necklace that glows in the presence of demonic energy."

"It was a Herondale, but he gave it to his sister who married into the Lightwood family. Their descendants lead the Institute in New York. There must be trouble brewing if they are here."

"See Magnus," I flicked my wrist and summoned a bottle of Chardonnay in my right hand with two glasses in my left, "You have so much excitement in this town. I was in L.A. for a while you know, Malcolm Fade is the high Warlock there now, I never liked him."

"Yeah, yeah," Magnus was still fixated on the door, "Life is too short for hatred. I know that he is odd, but you know how we get as we age."

"Yes, but they should have asked me to become the High Warlock. I am clearly the better choice," I poured our glasses and passed him one, "You know me better than anyone Magnus, and you know that I am far more reliable than cooky old Fade."

"I know, I would have recommended you had they asked me," Magnus's gaze now drifted to another girl who stood near the door that the Shadowhunters slipped through, "Ugh, what is she doing here?"

"The redhead?" I tried to spot who he was watching.

"Yes, Clary Fairchild, I've done some work for her mother, and now she is heading for trouble."

The girl was making her way toward the door. Her hair flowed behind her like flames in the wind.

"Fairchild? That's another Shadowhunter family right? Does she have a new kind of glamor rune? She looks just like the Mundanes, I can't see a rune on her."

"No, she has no runes. I can't really go into the details now, but her mom has her reasons for what she did."

"Well then, do we need to intervene," I sent the Chardonnay away and placed the glass on the nearby table, "You know how nosey I am. I'm dying to find out what is going on."

"Probably not the best idea, you know how they get. They're very act now, ask questions later type of people. You could get us both locked up."

"Oh come on Magnus, excitement, adventures, don't you want to have some fun?"

"I don't really enjoy captivity," Magnus glanced at me, "I'm more of the free-flowing type."

"Alright, alright, but if that Clary girl turns up dead in the morning and the Clave comes asking questions I'm going to blame you."

"I think three Shadowhunters can protect one untrained one."

"Perhaps four Shadowhunters," my eyes spotted another boy, probably around fifteen. He had dark black hair, like one of the two earlier, but was much shorter and he was clearly of Asian descent, perhaps Pacific Islander. His muscles were well-defined in his dark black gear. He had a crossbow hanging across his back and a quiver of arrows at his side. He made his way towards the door, but didn't seem to notice the girl heading for it a short distance from him.

"I don't recognize that one. There aren't many Shadowhunters here in New York, and I have the pleasure of knowing all of them except for him."

"I think I'll see what this is all about," I flicked my wrist once again as a cloud of smoke swept me away then I appeared in front of the young man, "Why hello there Shadowhunter. What brings you to this fine establishment with your little friends?" I glanced towards the door.

"Move Warlock, we are here doing business of the Clave."

"Oooooo, the Clave," I mocked his rude tone, "Don't you think three Shadowhunters can take down one? Whatever is in there?"

"Yes they could, but I am part of the New York Institute now, and I have to go to help on the mission."

"Of course, of course, I understand how you Shadowhunters work, but I just wanted a word. You aren't from here, so tell me about you." The boy's face flushed. Meanwhile Clary managed to slip through the door behind us.

"I really don't have the time for this," he attempted to nudge past me as I slipped my phone in his hand.

"Then perhaps you will have the time later, and can spare a moment now to give me your number."

"Alright, you win, but you have to let me go after this," he quickly typed his number and passed it back to me before turning for the door.

"And your name?" I called after him.

"Mark, Mark Nighthunter."

"Alright Mr. Nighthunter," I typed the name into my contacts.

"Did you just get his number?" Magnus glared over my shoulder and I jumped, nearly smacking him in the face.

"Yes, I certainly did."

"You know that would only cause problems. Shadowhunters aren't allowed to mix with the Downworlders."

"People can change my dear Magnus," I slipped my phone back into my pocket, "Don't forget that I know you fancied a Shadowhunter once back in London."

"I may have had a crush, but I did not act upon it."

"I believe I remember a kiss."

"It was not mutual, and had a motif of making someone else angry."

"Sure, whatever makes you happy."


	2. Chapter 2

**2**

 **"It's much better to do good in a way that no one knows anything about it." ~Leo Tolstoy - Anna Karenina**

Darkness, pure darkness was all that could be seen for miles and miles; until there was light. Not enough light to fill the room, but enough to make out the silhouette of a sword, a goblet, and a mirror, possibly; how can you tell a mirror exists in pure darkness? There was a noise, a very powerful noise, it sounded like words, but I couldn't understand them. I remember hearing a sound like this before. That was years ago, decades, perhaps even centuries. I saw a bright orange, fire maybe, a streak of light yellow. Then I heard something that was all too familiar, crying.

I shot up in bed with a cold sweat dripping from my forehead. It was not unusual for Warlocks to have nightmares. They were mixes of humans and demons, so many believe that it is their demonic parent sending them visions of the future. No one has proof either way, but it will be interesting to see how things play out. Everyone knows that a sword, cup, and mirror relates to the Shadowhunters. They are what they call the Mortal Instruments. They always knew where two of them were for a while, but they lost the cup. The only one that they never found was the mirror. Perhaps this was a good thing because rumor was that if all three were gathered in the same place, they could be used to summon an angel.

' _Was that a vision?_ ' I got out of bed, dragging my feet as I trudged into the bathroom and splashed water on my face at the sink. I grabbed my phone and pulled up Mark in my contacts to begin sending a message. 'Hey there, it's Jeff Wolfwright from Pandemonium last night. I was wondering if you wanted to hang out tonight?'

I tucked my phone away and went to my walk in closet that was likely larger than most people's apartments in New York. With the swish of my finger a light blue shirt with a spiraling whirlpool that formed a darker shade flew from its hanger. My shirt lifted off and the new one fell lightly over me and fit snugly. Next a tight leather jacket slid up my arms and rested on my shoulders. I squeezed into my tight black jeans and swapped my phone into the new pocket just before it vibrated.

I snatched it out and checked the new message, 'Sure, everyone else already has plans for tonight, and I don't see any missions that are coming up. What time and where would you like to meet?'

'How about I pick you up from the Institute? Then we can go to a local coffee shop. I hear that there is a locals poetry slam.'

'Alright, I'll make sure I am ready. Sounds like fun.'

'See you then. ;)' I returned the phone to my pocket and looked to the clock. It was only one-o'clock. I held out my hand and a spiraling wind began to form a vortex in front of me. I stepped through it into a hallway of a New York apartment building. I immediately went to the door of an apartment and slammed the knocker a few times. Magnus opened his door and gave me an odd look.

"You didn't even bother letting me know that you were coming over," he lead the way inside and I sat on the red leather sofa in the living room, resting my feet on the mahogany coffee table, "I could have guests that I am entertaining for all you know."

"Magnus, you and I both know that you are hesitant when it comes to romance. I've been there for you since you had all the troubles with Camille. Then there was Peru…"

"I'm banned from Peru."

"You never did tell me why that happened."

"And you never did tell me why you are dressed so fabulously," Magnus poured us some drinks and whisked the glass over to me, "Certainly this isn't for me."

"I happen to have a date with the Shadowhunter boy tonight."

"Oooooo, and does he know that it is a date?" Magnus sipped from his glass and took a seat next to me.

"Perhaps, but perhaps not."

"Keeping secrets already, never a good thing," he chastised me with his harshest scowl.

"Hey, two guys can just hang out without labeling things right away."

"You were the one to label it, not me. Also, remember what I said about Shadowhunters mingling with Downworlders? It isn't allowed, or at least frowned upon."

It was in that moment that a small striped cat hopped into Magnus's lap and purred steadily as Magnus began to pet him.

"And this must be Chairman Meow," I held out my hand was sniffed then playfully batted, "I have heard so much about you."

"This is a first for him, he doesn't really like people, and prefers hiding in the room."

"Pets love me Magnus, what can I say," I pulled my hand away and the Chairman contentedly hopped down and strutted back to the bedroom, "I am bored." I twisted my hand through my hair.

"Then portal yourself to Rome and go visit the Colosseum."

"I've already been there, and what if he would like to go to Rome. I can't go there twice in one day."

"You certainly could, you just don't want to," Magnus sipped from his drink, "Why did you push it off until so late if you were just going to come over here and pester me over how bored you are?"

"I couldn't sound desperate and have him meet me right away, that would be poor manners."'

"Then I'll cast a sleeping spell on you. It's simple and you'll end up looking well rested for your date."

"You are too kind Magnus," he flicked his wrist and my eyes slammed shut, drifting me off into a deep sleep.

 _Water, water everywhere. Bubbles drifted up as a girl was floating in the water. I couldn't tell if she was dead or in a state of suspended animation. Her long dark hair floated out around her head like a veil. I noticed some odd markings on the body that didn't look like the Runes of a Shadowhunter, but quite the opposite. Runes were supposed to represent the language of the angels; these markings were the language of demons. I'd seen these markings before in powerful spells._

"Hey, time to wake up," Magnus jolted me awake, "It is 8:30, so you have 30 minutes to collect yourself and get to the Institute."

"Thank you," I hopped off the couch and approached the mirror. After the flick of my wrist my hair shaped itself into a faux hawk the sparkles continued to drift off of it and fell slowly towards the ground, "Let me know if there is anything I can do to help you."

"I couldn't imagine what that would be," Magnus waved me off as I exited his apartment and made my way out to the busy streets of New York. I slipped down an alley and raised my hand to a brick wall. The bricks began to tumble away and a blue spiral formed sucking the air inwards. I stepped in and found myself standing outside of a grand old church. Shadowhunters made ancient churches their headquarters throughout the world. It became convenient as Vampires couldn't enter. Many of the Institutes built separate corridors that lead off hallowed ground if they needed to question a vampire. I don't recall ever being in the New York Institute, but I have been in the London and the L. A. ones. They were low tech and used special stones called witchlight for lighting. They glowed when a Shadowhunter grew near and would dim as they left the room.

"Hey, sorry, have you been waiting long?" Mark emerged from the gates in a pair of jeans and a tight black shirt that accentuated all of his muscles. His pitch black hair was also put up, but held in place by product instead of magic. He still wore a weapons belt at his waist, but it only had a spot for a knife-like weapon.

"Oh no, I just got here. I was simply admiring the architecture. I haven't been to this Institute."

"It is a nice one, bigger than the one back in the Philippines."

"The Philippines is a lovely place. I haven't been there in years, but I'm sure it is still just as great."

"You've probably been all over this world huh?"

"I have been to many places, not everywhere, but several. Anyways, where would you like…"

I was cut off by a slight snapping noise as a tiny burst of flame appeared in front of me. It dissipated and an orange maple leaf took its place, drifting to my hand with letters etched into it.

 _Dear Mr. Wolfwright,_

 _We hereby request your presence in Los Angeles for a meeting with the High Warlock. There is a situation that requires your presence. Please arrive immediately after reading this._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Malcolm Fade_

 _High Warlock of Los Angeles_

"I am so sorry," I apologized to Mark as I crushed the leaf in my hand.

"Hey, how about I go with?"

"I don't know if I'm allowed a guest, but I hate Fade, so why not?"

"Mind if I change into my gear. You don't know what we might run into."

"Go ahead," he rushed back into the church and I glared at the pieces of leaf blowing away in the wind. _Why did he have to send for me? I guess he doesn't really know that I hate him, but I didn't tell him I was leaving town, and I never went to visit him._ I leaned up on the pillar next to the gate. It was only about five minutes before Mark returned in a tight black jumpsuit-esque outfit with a belt containing many pouches and slots. His crossbow was resting against his right leg and the quiver of arrows wa on his back yet again, just like the day we first met. I felt my face got hot and looked away quickly.

"Thanks for waiting on me. How about we get going?"

"Oh, no problem," I raised my hand and a portal appeared on the stone wall next to the gate, "One trip to Los Angeles." He grabbed my hand and pulled me through the portal before my face could flush.

The bright sunlight blinded us as we stepped out of the portal and into an alley in L.A. The cars were rushing by on the busy street and we took in our new surroundings.

"I wonder what could have been so important," Mark removed a small plastic device with buttons and runes inscribed on it, "There isn't a large amount of demonic energy."

"Ahh, a sensor, I was around when that was invented you know. Very tricky device, but invented by a very brilliant man."

"Henry Branwell right?" Mark tucked the device away, "Wasn't that back in the 1800s?"

"Ooooo, a boy who knows his history, but you haven't heard of me," I frowned, "Typical Shadowhunters don't include the Downworlders in their books. You probably don't even know how the portal came into existence."

"That was by Branwell too wasn't it? Him and a Warlock?"

"Yes, him and **A** Warlock," I shook my head, didn't even get his name.

"It wasn't you was it?"

"Oh heavens no, I was still young back then. Not nearly powerful enough to invent spells."

"Why if it isn't Jeffrey!" a tall man with white hair and purple eyes approached us. His angular face made him look mature, but he didn't seem more than 27 years old. He grabbed my hand and kissed it.

I had all I could do not to flinch away, "Malcolm, great to see you again." I said with a fake smile, "How has the new job been?"

"Busy you know, and you just popped off. I guess you aren't required to tell me when you leave town, but it would have been nice to have a little help."

"So sorry, just had to take care of some business in New York. Very important."

His eyes flashed to Mark who was still uncertain about how to react to the stranger, "And who is this?"

"Mark Nighthunter, this is Malcolm Fade, the High Warlock of Los Angeles," I cheesily and half-heartedly stretched out my hand to introduce them.

"A Shadowhunter," Malcolm smiled, but it was obviously a ruse, "You brought a Shadowhunter."

"You interrupted our date."

Malcolm shot me a look that could only be described as vexation, "Well, I'm sorry for that." He turned away, "I need your help with a rogue Werewolf, there was an attack recently, and I need help subduing both the attacker and the attackee."

"That doesn't really sound like a job for me. Why didn't you go to the Los Angeles Institute or the Praetor Lupus? They are better suited for this."

Malcolm began to show us the way to his place, "Shadowhunters tend to kill first and ask questions later. As for the Praetor, they have a long wait list. They said they would send someone as soon as they have an opening. They asked me to keep them in check until they can get here."

"I'm sorry, but what is the Praetor Lupus?" Mark strode next to me.

"It is a Werewolf organization. They help control rogue Downworlders without the violence of the Shadowhunters. Sorry, but you are a violent sort," I gave him an apologetic look, "So this is the exact situation that they were designed for."

"Yes, yes, but if they are too busy, then we are the next in line. I'm sure they will have someone out here by the end of the night," Malcolm brushed off my commentary.

"Okay, give me the last seen location so I can get to work and get out of this place," I snapped my fingers and immediately had a pen and paper in my hands.

""Always in a hurry Jeffrey," Malcolm frowned, "Do you really despise L.A. that much? No wonder I became the High Warlock."

"We could just go home you know."

"Alright, right this way," Malcolm flicked his wrist and a portal appeared in the wall of the nearby alley. We followed him through to his luxury apartment. The living room had large windows that faced the ocean. The drapes were golden-yellow and hung from a rod that was likely gold. There was a white couch with ruby-red throw pillows, "Welcome to my lovely abode." He snapped again and a cork board with pictures pinned to a map. As you can see, it was last seen on Willow Street near Abby's place."

"The new Warlock in L.A.? Why didn't you ask for her to help?" I looked at the map closely.

"I did, but like you said, she is new, and doesn't know the town as well as we do," Malcolm flicked his wrist and the board vanished.

"Okay, we will be going," I raised my hand towards the door and created a portal.

"Thank you for having us," Mark nodded to Malcolm as we left through the portal.

The bright gold and white of the living room blurred as it morphed into the dark brick buildings of Willow Street. There was a dainty pub on the right with a small sign that read, 'Mario's Bar & Grill.'

"If anyone knows anything about these attacks, they would be in here," I gestured for us to go inside.

"Oh, is this a Downworlder bar?" Mark walked in and admired the drapery around the many tables lined with plush couches.

"Yes, so don't drink anything here or you might not remember the rest of the night. I can only do so much if you do."

"Right," Mark watched as a beautiful girl with flowing blonde hair passed by us. She had golden twigs wrapped around her head and ears that came to a point.

"The Fair Folk are some of the biggest perpetrators of spiking the drinks. They may only be able to speak the truth, but they love mischief." I spotted another brunette sitting at a table on the far end of the room. She had blonde streaks in her short hair, and talon-like claws on her fingers. We approached her and I took the seat across from her, "Are you Abby?"

"Yes, but who are you, and why did you bring a Shadowhunter?" she shot Mark a glare as he sat next to me.

"He is my date," I grabbed his hand, "I'm Jeff, Malcolm called me from New York to help with the Werewolf investigation."

"Oh, you are Jeff, I heard you were a top contender for Head Warlock here," her attention seemed peaked now, "I apologize if I offended you." She looked back to Mark, "I actually don't have a huge number of interactions with Shadowhunters, but your kind doesn't have the best reputation."

"So, I've been told," Mark shrugged it off, "I don't exactly agree with everything the Clave says, but sed lex, dura lex. The law is hard, but it is the law. So they say."

"Old latin phrases are big with the Shadowhunters. Anyways, Abby, have you made any progress on gathering intel on this rogue Werewolf attack?"

"Not much, a Mundane died yesterday. We reported it to the Praetor Lupus, and they said they should have someone out here by tomorrow. However, I am sure that the Shadowhunters are investigating it as well. They're going to want it killed, it doesn't matter that it is a recently turned wolf."

"I could try going to the Institute and talking to them," Mark offered.

"I don't think that would be a great idea," I shook my head, "They are going to want the Werewolf killed, and I don't think that is necessary. Besides, I am sure that they are already performing their own investigation. We'll run into them soon enough."

"We need something to go from in order for us to find this rogue wolf," Mark looked to me, "In order to use a tracking rune, we would need something that belonged to it. Do we have anything?"

"Runes aren't the only way to track something. I can use a spell, but we need some ingredients," I flicked my wrist, and the napkin flew over to me followed shortly after by a pen from behind the bar. "I need Wolf's bane, blood of a werewolf, hair from the werewolf that we wish to track, and I can take care of the rest."

"When we have to already know where it is to get the hair?" Abby asked in a sarcastic tone.

"If you go to where the Mundane was killed, you should find some hair," I snapped my fingers and three vials appeared. I handed one to Abby, one to Mark, and kept the last for myself. "Abby will be in charge of getting the hair, Mark, would you mind getting some wolfsbane while I obtain the blood?"

"I'm sure I can get the flower, but how do you plan on getting the blood?"

"Don't worry, I'm not gonna kill anyone. They actually have shops for Warlocks to buy the ingredients they need for spells, so I'll just head there."

"How do you expect me to know what hair actually belongs to werewolf and what hair is just from the last human to pass by?" Abby twisted the vial between her fingers.

"It is pretty easy to tell the difference between a hair from a werewolf in the hair of a human. Also they will probably have your area closed off so I doubt any other humans would've gone through there. As for getting the wrong werewolf's hair, I doubt any of them would pass through considering how much trouble they can get themselves into with the Shadowhunters. After we get everything we will meet back at this bar." I put my hand behind my back, and concentrated on making a small metal object appear. I felt the cold metal in my hand and pulled Mark aside.

I held out a dark black ring with blue and purple stones embedded into it. "This ring will give you a constant connection to me. If you need my help, just twist it three times around your finger, and I'll know exactly where you are and be there as soon as I can."


	3. Chapter 3

**3**

 **"It is better to be hated for what you are than to be loved for what you are not." ~André Gide, Autumn Leaves**

 _There was a rip or even a tear inside me as everything blurred into a blend of colors. The next thing I knew I was looking through the eyes of somebody else._

Present Day

The shop was dimly lit and you could faintly smell the mold wafting off the brick walls. An old man with an eye patch and the hunchback stepped out from behind the counter and approached me.

"Well, I haven't seen you in how many years now?" He held a monocle up to his eye and examined me from head to toe, "You haven't changed one bit."

"Neither have you Vidar," I said, "I'm here on business, do you still sell ingredients?"

"Of course I do," he laughed loudly, "I didn't think I'd see you again after they named that Malcolm the new head Warlock of LA."

"Have, neither did I, but he needed my help and you know how I have trouble saying no."

"Yes, you do have that problem, even more of a reason why I thought you would be chosen as the head Warlock."

"Well, I'm enjoying my life in New York. I'm even on the date now, but Malcolm called me out here on business."

"Oh ho ho, a date with who? "

"Just a Shadowhunter," I rubbed the back of my head.

"A Shadowhunter! Why would you date a Shadowhunter?"

"Because he seems nice, and why would you care I'm in New York now so it's not your problem."

"And it's a boy! You know how they treat people like that. You're only going to cause problems for him."

"Who doesn't like a bit of trouble? Now what I need from you is some werewolf blood, do you have any?"

"Yes I have some," he shuffled his way over to a cupboard, and began sifting through files upon vials the sound of clacking glass filled the room, "I'll even give it to at a discount, for old time's sake."

"You don't have to Vidar, you are a business, and I expect you to treat me as a customer."

"Don't you worry about me, $20 will be perfectly fine."

I reached into my pocket pulling out my old leather wallet and taking the $20 bill out to hand to him. "Thank you, I probably will not see you for a while as soon as I'm done here I'm heading back to New York."

"Well, don't you forget about us back here," he took the money and handed me a vial of the dark red liquid.

"I could never forget about the stupid town. You never know, maybe I will be back here again one day."

"Hopefully on better terms next time," she walked me to the door and waved goodbye as I we parted ways.

 **Mark's Point of View**

 **Moments after Everyone Parted Ways**

I slid the ring on my finger as I proceeded down the street. I approached a couple of girls sitting outside coffee shop, "Excuse me, but do you know where I can find a flower shop?"

"Yeah, I believe I saw one right around the corner, Rose Tyler's Floral," the one on the left gestured down the street and to the right, "I think that my coworker ordered some flowers from there once and said they are reasonably price."

"Thank you so much," I gave them a smile before I continued down the street. I turned the corner and saw a small shop with large windows in the front displaying beautiful bouquets. Hanging above the door was a quaint wooden sign that read Rose Tyler's Floral. I open the door and the ring of a small bell chimed through the shop. A young-looking blonde no older than 19 emerged from the back of the shop her hair fell at her shoulders, and she had a friendly smile on her face.

"Hello, welcome, what can I do for you?" She had a slight accent, possibly British, and continued to smile brightly.

"Yes, I was wondering if you happen to have any Wolf's bane?"

"That's definitely an odd ask, not exactly the flower of romance, but yes I do have some."

"Oh no, it isn't for anyone in particular. It is just for decoration purposes."

"Alright, just be careful because it often means that a challenging foe is in your future."

 _If she only knew the half of it._ "But now that you mention it, I think I'll pick up some flowers for someone too," _what kind of flowers would he like?_ "Do you have any light blue roses?"

"Of course, how many of each would you like, and did you want any vases?"

"Only one of the Wolf's bane will do, and that no vase for that, and a dozen of the roses please with a vase."

"All right, I'll be back in just a few minutes," she went to the back and began to gather the items.

I looked down at the ring admiring the small jewels embedded into the band. I decided to wander around the shop look at the ready-made bouquets. Some had get well soon cards; others said I love you. I saw a flash of movement through the window which caught my eye a person dressed in all black was running up the street. It wasn't just any black clothing, it was Shadowhunter gear. _Should I go speak to them? I can't just leave the shop. I wonder why they are down here, I don't sense anything out of the ordinary._

The back door opened and the girl came out with a gorgeous purple vase filled with the light blue roses. Next to that was a single piece of Wolf's bane wrapped in plastic. The vase with the roses had a bit of baby's breath thrown in to give it a little variety. "What do you think?"

"They look really great," I slowly spun the vase around admiring the floral pattern embedded into the glass, "How much do I owe you?"

"It will be $30 for the roses and $5 for the Wolf's bane, so $35."

I grabbed my wallet, and gave her the $35 before picking up the flowers and thanking her.

"My pleasure, please come again."

I gathered the flowers and stepped outside, glancing up the street, searching for the Shadowhunter that was racing past a mere moment ago. There was no sign of them, common since they were likely glamoured so that the Mundanes wouldn't notice. I decided to head back towards the bar that we were at earlier. It was then that I noticed a small girl, she wore black Shadowhunter gear, and had her blonde hair tied back in a ponytail.

"Hey there," I approached her hand outstretched, "I'm a Shadowhunter too, from the New York Institute. My name is Mark Nighthunter."

She seemed taken aback that anyone could see her, but she quickly understood and shook my hand, "Hello Mark, I didn't know we were having anyone from New York come to town. My name is Emma Silverowl."

"Oh, I'm not here on official Clave business. I'm here for personal business."

She looked down and saw the flowers and smiled, "Ooooo, a date. Who's the lucky girl? Is it someone from the Institute?"

"No, it's a bit complicated I'd rather not go into it." I felt my face flush and scratched the back of my head.

"Okay, I won't pry. However, what is the Wolf's bane for? You only have one so I don't think you're trying to incorporate it into the bouquet, so it must be for something else."

"Well, I needed for part of a spell."

"A spell?! What could you possibly need to cast a spell for?" She seemed extremely skeptical, "I thought you weren't here on official Clave business?"

"I'm not, I'm on a date with a Warlock."

"A Warlock?! Shadowhunters aren't supposed to date Downworlders."

"That is my decision to make, I don't really see the big deal. A lot of Shadowhunters weren't perfect."

"Fine, I'm not going to tell anyone don't worry. What kind of spell is it?"

"It's a tracking spell, my date got called out here by the head Warlock to solve the mystery of the Werewolf attack."

"That is what we're looking into now at the Institute. I would recommend that you stay out of it. The others will not be happy if you interfere."

"We just don't want the Werewolf to do anything else. We also don't want to kill it. People make mistakes you know."

"Harming Mundanes is against The Accords. This Werewolf actually killed one, and it could do it again."

"Just give us a chance we're going to make sure that nothing else happens."

"Unfortunately, that's not my decision to make. I'll pass your request on to the rest of the Institute, but I doubt they will agree to it. We will likely continue to do our own investigation, which I am in the middle of. I better get going, it was nice meeting you, and good luck on your date."

The girl ran off and I looked down at the ring. _What do I do now? If the Shadowhunters at the Institute find the Werewolf before us, they are likely going to kill it._ I began to twist the ring, but paused. _Is this really an emergency? I'm not in any danger. I only have information to pass along. It can probably wait until we all meet up._

 **Abby's Point of View**

 **Shortly after everyone split up**

I was in a dark alleyway all the streetlamps were burned-out and the buildings were so tall that they blocked the sun. The dumpsters smelled of rotten fish, and were pushed close together with caution tape strung between them. I saw the white chalk outline of a body, and the floor was scattered with broken pieces of board. _If I were a hair, where would I be?_ I used my feet to push boards to the side rummaging for any strands that I can find. A rat the size of the small dog scurried out from its hiding place that I disturbed. I squealed and raised my hand towards it sending a barrage of boards flying at it as it scurried quickly out of the alley. Finally, I saw it, a small lump of auburn colored hair. It was thick and matted, not the hair of a rat, nor the hair of a human. _This has to be it._ I placed it into the vial carefully, and replaced the cap.

I made my way towards the alleyway's entrance, but heard a rustling noise behind me. I threw up my strongest glamour and pressed against the wall glancing back to see what made the noise. There was a tall figure, pretty slender, but definitely a guy. He remained in the shadows, his face hidden just out of my view. He snapped his fingers, and the dumpsters whisked back against the walls. The caution tape burst up into flame diminishing quickly, and the chalk outline blew away like dust in the wind. I slowly stepped towards the entrance of the alley praying that I wouldn't be noticed by this newcomer. Right when I hit the corner, my foot rammed it into a piece of board clambering it against the brick wall.

"Who's there?" the man asked, but I darted down the street.

 **Jeff's Point of View**

 **After the shop**

I approached the bar and grill from earlier, twisting the vial of blood within my pocket. By now Mark should be back, and Abby should be on her way back at the very least. I pushed open the door and glanced over by the table we were at, sure enough, Mark was there sipping on a dark-colored soda. I snapped my fingers refreshing my hair and giving it a new shine before walking over to him and taking the seat across.

"Hello there," I smiled and my eyes caught the lovely vase of flowers at the end of the table, "Those are lovely, I'm guessing that you got more than just wolfsbane from the flower shop."

Mark's face flushed, "Yeah, they are for you. Hopefully it can make up for all the horrible things that Shadowhunters have done."

"You don't need to apologize, I don't blame you for the things that your people have done. You are your own person that is free to make their own choices."

"Well thank you…" I stopped him mid sentence, and pulled him in kissing him gently before releasing him. His cheeks were bright red, and he was unable to complete his sentence. Luckily, Abby interrupted us by running through the door and pushing me aside so that she could sit. She was breathing heavily, so I conjured up a glass of water from the bar which she gladly took and drank.

"What happened to you?" I asked, still watching the blush fade from Mark's cheeks.

"I managed to get the hair," she pulled out a vial and placed down the table, "but someone else showed up there. Another Warlock, and he used his magic to clean up the scene of the crime."

"That's very strange, he could get himself in trouble with the Institute. I'm sure they will not be happy if they go back to the scene and see that it's completely cleaned up."

"Speaking of the Institute," Mark thought back to the girl that he met earlier, "I met someone from the LA Institute after I finished up at the flower shop. As we thought, they are investigating, and they know that we are here. She said that she would ask if they could give us some time to try to solve this peacefully, but she doubted that they would grant that request."

"Of course they won't, the werewolf broke the Accords, and it is no longer under their protection." I grabbed the vial of the hairs, and brought out my vial of blood. Mark passed over the Wolf's bane, and I got to work. Snapping my fingers, a milky veil appeared around us, and a pot appeared in the center of the table. I picked off the petals of the Wolf's bane then placed them into the pot. I began to mutter an incantation, "Versipellem esse, nos invenire non quaeritis. Quaeso ut ea duce nos ut faciam confidenter ante inimicos nostros."

Mark stared at me, fascinated, as if he had never seen a Warlock casting a spell for. I emptied the vial of the hairs, and the pot began to smoke. "Won't the others see what we're doing?" He glanced around, but the veil seemed to blur our surroundings.

"I put up a very powerful glamour around our table. The workers will be temporarily confused about the fact that a wall now appears where a table used to be, but they won't question it."

"Well," Abby poked at the veil, causing it to shimmer briefly, but it didn't break, "that is a pretty powerful spell, and you aren't phased at all."

"I'm not your average Warlock, there is a reason I was in the running for the head Warlock of LA. It isn't just my dashing good looks." I grinned cheekily holding in my laughter. The smoke began to clear, and the pot was glowing with a purple liquid. I snapped my fingers once again, this time making a compass appeared in my hand. I poured some of the liquid onto the compass, which began to glow react the needle was no longer pointing north but was pointing towards the east side of the building.

"Wow, that is amazing!" Mark almost rose out of his seat.

"That's not the only thing that is amazing about me," I laughed and winked at him, but he just shook his head in embarrassment.

"We better get going," Abby got out of the booth, and I made the rest of the potion vanish, and released the glamour around the table.

"True, if the Institute is already on the case they could be closing in on the werewolf as we speak." I lead the way out of the building and we fall the compass to the east setting off on our journey.


	4. Chapter 4

**4**

 **"I'm not afraid of werewolves or vampires or haunted hotels, I'm afraid of what real human beings do to other real human beings." ~Walter Jon Williams**

The sun was starting to set as we continued our search down another alleyway. "They could be in any of these buildings, or doubt any of these streets." The compass was spinning like crazy. The downside to this type of tracking spell was that it could go haywire once you reach that area that the target spends a lot of time in.

"Still, we are a lot closer than we were when we first got here. We'll find it, I'm sure." Mark grabbed my shoulder as if to reassure me and congratulate me on a job well done. I smiled back at him.

"If you two lovebirds could refrain from your flirting while we're on our mission, it would be much appreciated," Abby gagged as if she was about to hurl.

I sent the compass away as we continued into the next alley. "Well, should we start knocking on doors? I don't imagine that would go over well."

"I could try a tracking rune," Mark recommended, pulling out a slender twig of metal that radiated like heavenly fire from the holster on his belt, "Typically you need something important to the person. However, we are close enough now, so hairs are enough to help us find them."

"What an excellent idea!" I removed a vial containing a few remaining hairs from my pocket. He extended his right hand to me as I emptied the hairs into his palm. He clenched his fist and placed the tool to the back of his hand. Like paint from a brush a black marking began to flow out of the device and resembled a backwards uppercase B with some lines on the inside. It was like an ancient language that had been long forgotten by time.

It began to glow like the device that placed the marking on the skin and his fist tightened and eyes closed. It was only a moment before he opened his eyes again to tell us what he knew.

"Okay, so they are not here, but they are on their way. They are moving quickly, likely in their wolf form."

"This will be tricky," I pondered, ideas rushing through my head, "We need to get them to come to this alleyway and we need to somehow set up a trap."

"Well," Abby interjected, "How about we place some meat out?" She already raised her hand and a large pork tenderloin appeared.

"Did you just steal that?" Mark's eyes widened.

"Of course not! I deal with a local butcher all the time. I place the money for it in the register immediately after summoning it."

I eyed her skeptically, "Oh really now?"

"I resent your hostility," she turned away, "I would never steal from Mundanes."

I snapped my fingers and a large tin tray appeared to place the meat on. "Well, we don't have the time to argue. If they are in wolf form they could be here at any minute. So let's get up against the wall so I can glamour us."

We squished into a small corner by a doorway of a rundown building and sparks flew from my fingertips raising a milky veil around us like back in the bar. A few rat scurried by, smelled the meat, but my magic kept them at bay. After about five minutes a quick red-ish brown flashed across our line of sight and a large auburn wolf was devouring the loin sending juices everywhere. I released our glamour and we approached the wolf when we heard voices behind us.

"DON'T MOVE!" a man shouted causing the wolf to tear its attention from the meat, "You are under arrest by the order of the Clave!"

I turned over and saw a man with Salt and Peppered hair standing next to three other Shadowhunters all fully dressed in gear. "Little ol' me!" I gasped, "Why whatever did I do?"

"Not you Warlock," he seemed angry, but almost all Shadowhunters seemed angry.

It was then that the wolf made a move and was going to dash away. Faster than a bullet the Shadowhunter removed a dagger from the sheath at his waist and sent it flying towards the wolf. I raised my hand, sending blue sparks. The wolf was immediately pulled back as if on an invisible leash and the dagger got sent back to where it came gently sliding back in the sheath.

"You are interfering with our ability to uphold the law," the woman next to him looked taken aback, "That is against The Accords."

"Killing innocent Downworlders is also against those Accords."

"This Werewolf killed a Mundane yesterday," the man argued.

"This Werewolf was recently changed," Abby interjected, standing next to me, "They don't have full control right away."

"We can place you both under arrest for this," the man was visible angry now, his face flushing red.

"You call the Clave and tell them that Jeffrey Wolfwright is taking care of this case. I have done much for them in the past and they will likely order you to leave this to me."

The man pulled out a phone and dialed a number as I focused my energy on keeping the wolf contained. It was furious now that it felt penned up and began thrashing about into the dumpsters and cardboard boxes.

"What have you done for the Clave?" Mark whispered to me.

"It is a long story that I can go over with you later, but I'm a little busy right now. I don't know how long I can hold it."

The man put his phone away and walked towards me. Abby raised her hand and Mark placed his on his Seraph Blade.

"It's alright, the Clave said to let you be, but they wanted me to confirm that it is actually him. They say he fell off the grid decades ago. They want him to go to Idris and speak with Consul Malachi."

"Well tell the Consul that he will unfortunately have to wait as I am exceedingly busy at this moment," I was beginning to feel my spells take a toll as my breathing became more frequent.

It was then that we were interrupted by the opening of the door at the building that I thought was abandoned. "What is all of this noise?" A woman with blonde hair stepped out on the stoop, breaking my concentration and releasing the wolf right at her. There was a scream and I fell to a knee, raising my hand once more to pull the wolf away. "Do something!" I grunted out, closing my eyes to preserve what energy I had left. Mark dashed forward and pulled out some rope from his container at his waist. I sparkled slightly, likely with silver that was woven into the fibers. The wolf howled as the silver contacted its skin, but it was all we could do to keep it in place. The woman laid on the steps still screaming as Abby was over her casting spells to stop the bleeding and heal the wounds at least slightly. The sounds began to drift away like the fading sound of waves on the ocean as I drifted into unconsciousness.

 **Mark's Point of View**

"I'm sorry," I whispered as I saw a slight smoke rise from where I was placing the rope, "You're going to be okay." I looked over and saw the blood trailing down the steps as Abby healed the attackee. Emma came over to me and knelt next to the wolf.

"Will it be okay?" she stared at it with sympathy instead of the typical hatred.

"I think so, but The Clave will not be happy that it attacked another Mundane."

"Will she be okay?"

"Warlocks make surprisingly good doctors," I smiled, "She'll probably be just fine. She might not even turn into a Lycanthrope."

"Really?" her eyes widened, "You don't always change?"

"No, I think books say that there is a one in three chance of the disease not taking."

"Not the greatest odds."

"No, but it is still a chance," I smiled.

I looked over and saw the man kneeling next to Jeff who had fallen, face first, on the ground. I moved faster than I thought I would and was next to him.

"What are you doing? What happened to him?" my tone came out harsher than I intended.

"I was just going to confirm his identity. The Consul gave me a description, and he finds it odd that he just vanished and shows up now to investigate a random Werewolf."

"Malcolm Fade summoned him here to assist with the Werewolf until the Praetor Lupus can come to take care of them."

"Okay, that explains why he is here, but why are you here?" his brow furrowed.

"Well," I felt my cheeks flush, "We needed him on a case in New York and he got summoned while I had to retrieve him. So I decided to go with him as I am a Shadowhunter that is currently training there from the Philippine Institute."

"I guess that makes sense."

"Zach," the woman from earlier placed a hand on his shoulder, "We should probably report back to the Institute and the Clave about what has happened here."

"Send Nate back to tell them. We should not leave this matter to the Downworlders."

"Well, I am here," I stopped him, "I can inform the Clave of any changes."

"See, he is another Shadowhunter. He can handle things from here," the woman attempted to reassure him.

"Are you even 18?" he questioned.

"Yes, I just turned 18 last year. I am a member of the Clave, and I will uphold the law to the best of my ability."

"See Zach, you should be a little more approachable. We all know that the law hard, but it is the law," the woman knelt next to me, "My name is Amanda Earthstorm, he is Zachariah Silverhawk. It seems that you already met Emma Silverowl, and lastly that is Nate Landstair." The others all waved as their names were mentioned. "We are all currently assigned to the L.A. Institute. I'm sure that you know the kind of pressure that Zach is under from the Clave. He really wants to be the head of an Institute one day."

"I see, but heads of the Institutes deal very closely with Downworlders. If you make them feel like they are beneath us, they won't want to listen to you." I politely shook her hand then looked to Zach.

"I know," Zach put his hand behind his head, clearly embarrassed, "I'm sorry for that. I just feel the need to always uphold the law, and I don't realize that it can be flexible at times. You know how strict the Clave is."

Jeff's eyes shot open, but they were pure white. His voice was much higher pitched and sounded almost like a song, "The man who once tried to erase them all is back again to destroy you all." The eyes slammed shut again and he began to thrash about on the ground.

"What's going on?" I backed away slightly along with everyone else, "What was that?"

"I've never heard of anything like this before."

I looked down at my hand and saw the ring. I immediately began to twist it around my finger. It began to grow extremely hot, almost burning my finger. It was then that Jeff had grabbed my hand, immediately cooling it down. He was back on his feet, but looked exhausted with heavy black rings under his eyes.

"What did I miss?"

 **Jeff's Point of View**

 **Moments ago**

As the darkness fell on my vision, it was quickly drowned out by a blinding golden light. I was surrounded by golden feathers with a single golden eye. Someone approached me that was human-like in figure, but so large that he could cradle three grown men in his palms. He has long silver and gold hair. His eyes are also gold with no whites or pupils. His white skin is covered in golden angelic Marks—both those familiar and unfamiliar (those not found in the Gray Book)—all of which move across his skin. As an angel, he has large golden wings, each feather of which contains a single golden staring eye. His face was described as both beautiful and inhuman.

"I speak to you to give you a warning," the angel's voice was melodic in tone and almost deafening, "Do not speak to me as you do not possess the right to speak to an angel even with the angelic blood in your veins. The man who once tried to erase them all is back again to destroy you all. I must also say that one of our own has been on Earth for far too long. The same one that you know due to that girl. We want him returned to us."

I opened my mouth to speak, but he was already gone. My vision flooded back to me and I was hit with a burning heat throughout my body. I could feel the small amount of energy that I had placed inside of the ring returning to me. I managed to get to my feet and grab Mark's hand, releasing the spell.

"What did I miss?" I breathed out, attempting to gather myself.

"Umm, a bit," Mark frowned, "You were freaking out on the floor and gave us all a bit of a scare."

"That would explain the dirt on my clothes," I brushed off my pants with my hands, "Did I say anything?"

"'The man who once tried to erase them all is back again to destroy you all.'" Zach interjected, "What does that mean?"

"Oh, the angel told me that, and it must have passed through me as a messenger."

"The angel?! You saw an angel?!" Mark's eyes widened.

"Not just an angel, but The angel. The big one for Shadowhunters, Raziel."

"You saw Raziel?" Amanda seemed sceptical, "You aren't even a Shadowhunter."

"Despite what some may think, the angel's don't hate every Downworlder. Also, I guess that since you will all find out eventually, I do have angel blood inside of me. I would rather not go in-depth with the people who I just met, but I am a Shadowhunter as well as a Warlock." I reached down and pulled out a tool similar to what Mark used earlier. It was almost like the cross between a twig and a magic wand. It shined brightly like a heavenly fire. I pressed it to the back of my hand and a black spiral began to pour out onto my skin. It resembled that of an 'E' combined with a 'h'. I began to feel its effect as soon as the mark was complete. It began to reduce my fatigue as I took the Stele in my other hand and traced another mark on the back of the opposite hand. My energy began to come back like I just had a cup of coffee. It wasn't permanent by any means, but I could probably stand for a few more minutes.

"How can you be a Warlock and a Shadowhunter?" this time Nate approached. They had short hair, and were around the same height as Mark.

"Well, that is a long story. It should be in your history books I would hope. I'm not the only one either, but I am probably the only one that you will meet as the other now lives on a secluded island."

"That sounds lovely," Mark laughed, "Any particular reason?"

"It is hard watching the people you love die," I felt my face solidify into a frown, "She had a family, kids, grandkids, but when you live forever you sometimes choose to just distance yourself so that you can't get hurt any more. Not to mention, I am sure the Clave would have liked me to join her there so that they could call upon me like a tool."

"That's a bit harsh," Nate watched as my marks began to fade, "Why don't your Runes stay on your skin?"

"Because I'm not a fan of tattoos," I looked at them seriously, but broke, "Just kidding, probably because of the demon blood in me. They don't remain, but their effects still keep as long as it would on other Shadowhunters. Of course, even if they remained I could disguise them."

"Why didn't you tell me this before?" Mark looked into my eyes.

"Because it is very complicated, but I promise we can sit down and discuss it all back in New York," I nearly fell as I got to my feet and approached the woman and the wolf. Abby had successfully stabilized her, and Mark had the wolf restrained, "Abby can you send a fire message to Malcolm asking about the Praetor."

"No need, I am already here," a tall, brown-skinned rocker boy with long, dark hair that tumbled over his forehead and down his neck in curls, and had long, thick eyelashes. He was broad-shouldered and slim, but muscular, with high cheekbones and startling hazel-green eyes. On both arms, he had tattoos that looked like scrolling script winding around his skin. Many would probably find him attractive, but he wasn't really my cup of tea, "The name is Jordan, Jordan Kyle." He extended his hand which I shook firmly.

"Jeff Wolfright, and this is Abby and Mark," I gestured to them both, "Those are other Shadowhunters from the Institute, but I have yet to memorize their names."

Everyone introduced themselves and Jordan knelt next to the wolf. "I see, I'm sorry I took so long to get here. I'll handle it from here. I can keep the Institute informed if the woman ends of changing and I will mentor this one to make sure that nothing like this happens again."

"Sounds good to me, Abby please update Malcolm on this as Mark and I will be returning to New York."

"Shouldn't you rest," Mark placed a hand on my shoulder, "You must be exhausted still. Energy Runes can only do so much."

"Your confidence in me is lacking Mr. Nighthunter," I flicked my wrist generating blue sparks, "I wasn't almost chosen as the high Warlock of L.A. remember. I placed my hand up against the brick wall and they began to fold away into a spiral of blue."

"Wait," Abby stopped us after sending off a fire message in a puff of smoke, "Can I go with you guys? I would like it if you could be my mentor."

I paused for a moment, a tad startled by the request, "You want me as your mentor?"

"Yes, you seem knowledgeable, and I want to become a better Warlock. Who better than someone who was nearly a high Warlock."

"But you could just ask Malcolm, I'm sure he would love to…"

"No, I don't want Malcolm as a mentor. He is too lazy to do these investigations himself and clearly thought that a young Warlock should be in charge of a difficult mission."

"I guess that is true, but I'm not sure if I would be the best mentor."

"I think you would be great," Mark grabbed both of our hands and looked back at the others, "Bye everyone." He dragged us through the portal and we were whisked away into the swirling blend of colors.


	5. Chapter 5

**5**

 **"Telling an introvert to go to a party is like telling a saint to go to Hell." ~Criss Jami, Killosophy**

Before long, we were back in the muggy humidity of New York. The polluted air filled our lungs as the towering church of the Institute loomed behind us.

"We made it," I tried to disguise my heavy breathing with a laugh, "I guess that I will be your mentor." I shot Mark a look that was somewhere between annoyed and playful.

"Sorry," he placed a hand on my shoulder, "You'll have someone to keep you company now, and you can pass on your immense expertise."

"Flattery will get you everywhere," I felt blood flushing my cheeks, "Now, you should probably check in with everyone here and find out what happened while we were gone. Meanwhile, I will get my pupil set up."

"Alright, I'll see you later," he kissed me gently on the cheek then rushed through the gates to the large wooden doors.

I let my facade fade and the exhaustion set back into my shoulders, "Alright, come along, we are going to go check in with Magnus and let him know that there is a new Warlock in town."

"Shouldn't you get some rest," Abby frowned, "Even a powerful Warlock can't cast spells unlimitedly."

"Well, as you and now probably every Shadowhunter in L.A. knows, I am not your normal Warlock."

"Even runes can't actually restore energy. They can elude to energy, but they cannot provide more. It is like a cup of coffee."

"Alright, I am very tired, and I will probably sleep for the next 12 hours just to recover 50% of my power, but we need to get you to Magnus and get you a place here in New York. I don't have much room at my place." I raised my hand producing another portal, "His apartment is not terribly far from here, so this won't use up much of my power."

We entered the portal and appeared outside of a large building. I walked up the steps and hit the button for Magnus's apartment. The speaker crackled in response, "Who is it?"

"Jeff plus one," I replied.

"Come on up." There was a loud buzz and we opened the door, proceeded upstairs and knocked at Magnus's door which swiftly opened like a strong gust of wind. We entered the apartment and Magnus was leaning against the back of his couch. His hair was spiked up and his suit that he wore was a flamboyant purple, unbuttoned slightly to show his collar bone.

"You look awful," he stared at me in shock then his eyes caught on Abby, "And you are new. I'm Magnus Bane, it is nice to meet you."

"I'm Abby Kudou, I'm Jeff's new student from L.A."

"A student," his eyebrows raised, "You've never had a student before."

"No, I suppose I haven't," I took a seat on his couch and they both followed. Abby sat with me and Magnus sat across from us in an armchair.

"Now, why do you have a student from L.A."

"While on my date, I got summoned by Malcolm and he needed me for a mission to capture a new formed Werewolf before the Praetor could get there. Abby was assigned to the case before me."

"Well you certainly were busy then. How about the date?"

"He came along, and got me flowers. I sent them back to my apartment," I flushed again, "However, I took up a lot of my energy and now all of the Shadowhunters in L.A. know about my special circumstances and the Consul wants to meet with me."

"No wonder you look like a wreck," Magnus got up and approached me, "Let me share some of my energy with you so that you can survive the trip home." He placed one hand on my shoulder and I felt a spark as a small amount of magic entered my system.

"Thank you, but I have one more request. Abby is going to need a place to stay while she is here, and I don't have much room."

"I see," he toyed his fingers together, "I believe that Catarina had a spare place. I can contact her."

"Ahh, how has she been? I don't believe that I have talked to her since your incident in Peru."

"She is great. She works at a hospital now, and we meet up once in awhile to catch up," he sent off a fire message that he jotted down on a sticky note.

"You'll like her. She's extremely nice and hard working. Just don't be startled by her blue skin."

There was a puff of smoke as a paper fluttered into Magnus's hand with a small silver key. It had an address in Brooklyn scrawled upon it.

"She sends her best," Magnus read from the message, "And would like to grab coffee with us later this week."

"I'll write to her tomorrow to thank her," I got up from the couch and Magnus handed the note to Abby.

"Now, you need some rest, and you need to get settled," Magnus raised both of his hands producing two portals, "The left will take Jeff home and the right will bring you to your new place." We made towards the portals, "Wait, one more thing," he went over to his counter and grabbed a couple of flyers, "I am having a party here tomorrow night, and you are both welcome to attend if you are feeling up to it."

"You know I'm not a big party person," I took the flyer.

"You are not, but your date might be," he grinned cheekily, "Bring him along so that I can meet him and give my stamp of approval."

"I don't really need your approval," I laughed and tucked the invitation into my pocket.

"Yes you do," he brushed me off, "Now go along and rest up."

We said our goodbyes before stepping through the portals. I found myself in the hall of my apartment building where I opened the door with a flick of my wrist. I made it over to my couch before I collapsed into a deep sleep.

 _I was standing in the middle of a cobblestone street as ashes fell around me. The sky was a burnt orange color and billows of dark black smoke filled the sky like storm clouds. Above me were towers that were nearly clear, but glowed a silver-white color. The tops were burning as if they were torches slowly crumbling downward. There were screams coming from every direction and demonic screeches filled my ears. Then a ringing sound began, growing louder, louder, louder…_

I awoke to my phone vibrating vigorously in my pocket and blasting a loud ringing noise. I fetched it out and saw Mark's name. Collecting myself, I answered, "Hello?"

"I'm sorry, did I wake you?"

"Oh no," I lied, "You are fine, what's up?"

"I guess a lot happened while we were gone. They found a girl named Clary that might be a Shadowhunter that didn't know she was one."

 _Clary, I tossed the name around in my head. Where have I heard that before?_ "Oh really?"

"Yeah, her mom was attacked by demons and now they are on their way to the Bone City to see if the Silent Brothers can find out anything from her memories."

"So she doesn't remember anything about being a Shadowhunter?"

"Nope, and there are some powerful blocks in her mind that the Silent Brothers have to try and remove."

"And shouldn't this all be confidential Mr. Nighthunter?"

"True, but you are a Shadowhunter technically, so I take that as an ok to leak."

"The Clave does not really consider me to be a Shadowhunter, but your secrets are safe with me."

"Why don't they?"

"Probably the whole part demon thing," I laughed slightly, "Not the biggest fans of that."

"Right, but I don't see the big deal. We could use all of the help we could get."

"Well thank you," I smiled, "Oh, how would you feel about going to a party tonight?"

"A party?"

"Yes, my friend, Magnus Bane is hosting one and he is dying to meet you."

"Oh really?" I heard a slight chuckle, "Sure, I'll go. How should I dress?"

"He's pretty fancy most of the time, so I would wear something nice."

"Okay, what time should I meet you?"

"I'll go to the Institute around 11:30."

"Sounds great."

"Alright, I'll see you then."

"See you then."

I pressed end on the phone and caught that it was already 4:00. I sent Magnus a text asking to confirm when the party started and dragged myself to the kitchen. I rummaged through the fridge removing a carton of eggs, cheese, milk, ham, and bacon. After placing everything on the counter I gathered my bowl and cutting board, beginning to prepare an omelet. "Whoever invented breakfast for dinner was a miracle worker," I laughed to myself. I put my pan on the stove and began to heat up some oil. I was whisking my eggs when a heavy smell of smoke filled my nostrils. I turned to the pan, but it was heating just fine with no smoke to be seen. There was a loud crash from the living room and I immediately raised my hand. Blue sparks filled the air as a milky veil covered the doorway to the kitchen. A creature that had a slimy, long, scaled, black body, a long black tongue, multiple legs and claws, and an insectile cluster of eyes set dead center on top of its long domed skull appeared at the doorway and began to slam into my barrier. It seemed like a cross between an alligator and a centipede, with a thick, flat snout, serrated teeth, and a barbed tail that whips from side to side. It is also said to resemble a scorpion with its crabbed, evil face. It was a Ravener demon, and if I wasn't fast it would be tearing apart my kitchen and probably me next. They always travel in packs, but they aren't the smartest. I could probably handle one or two, but any more than that and I'd be finished since I wasn't fully recovered. I glanced longingly at my half prepared omelet before raising my hand to create a portal. The barrier shattered like the glass in a window and the demon lunged at me. I grabbed the frying pan and flung the hot oil at it. It howled and fell and I dashed for the portal swirling away as more demons flung into the kitchen.

I was outside Magnus's familiar apartment building and marched up the steps mashing the buzzer. "The party hasn't started yet," Magnus's voice came through with a heavy crackled filter.

"It's me Magnus, I need to talk to you."

"I don't know a me," I sensed a laugh behind his tone.

"Magnus, it's Jeff," my serious tone must have gone through as the only response was the buzzer of the door. I made it to his door which was already open and he waited in the frame.

"What's wrong? You are far too serious."

"I was just attacked by a pack of Ravener demons. They broke into my apartment while I was making dinner and attempted to get me."

"Now that is certainly unexpected," he stepped aside and we went to the kitchen, "I assume you are still hungry. What would you like?"

"Well, I was preparing an omelet before I was rudely interrupted."

He snapped his fingers and the fridge flung open, the ingredients of an omelet fluttered out and landed on the counter. "Would you like to make it or should I?"

"I can handle it," I went over and began to crack a few eggs into a bowl as he prepared a pan for me.

"Why do you think that a Ravener demon would be after you?"

"I don't know, but I'm not the most loved Warlock in the world. I am sure there are plenty that would want me dead or captured."

"True, true," Magnus poured some oil into the pan, "Why now though?"

"Well, I did just reveal myself to the Clave and Consul."

"But the Clave wouldn't order demons to fetch you. It is against the Accords."

"Yes, but other Shadowhunters can be a little more flexible with the law."

"I still don't think they would do that."

"Well, there was that message that I received from the angel."

"A message from the angel?!" Magnus's jaw dropped, "You spoke to an angel and didn't mention it to me last night?"

"I was a little exhausted Magnus. It didn't really cross my mind."

"Alright, I'll give you a pass on this one, but what did he say?"

"'The man who once tried to erase them all is back again to destroy you all.'"

"Valentine," Magnus tousled his hair showing is nervousness, "So he wasn't dead after all."

"You think that Valentine is who he was referring to?"

"He fits that description perfectly. He is a man, he tried to kill all downworlders, and apparently he might be back to finish the job."

"Oh, and that wasn't all. Apparently there is an angel trapped on Earth and they want him returned to them."

"An angel on Earth? That isn't exactly easy to do, and to trap one would be even more difficult."

"Yes, but it has been done before."

"Not in the same capacity as that though. Yes, there was a soul trapped in Tessa's necklace, but it wasn't an actual body of an angel trapped on Earth."

"I know, I know, I was there remember."

"Of course, but there was a lot going on at the time."

"Once again, I know," I laughed as I emptied the pan onto a plate, "Anyways, you think that Valentine sent the demons after me?"

"I wouldn't be surprised. I just don't know if he wanted you dead or just wounded and captured."

"Why would he want me?"

"Because you are different. You are a Downworlder and a Shadowhunter. Unlike Tessa, Marks actually affect you, but you still have the same power as her."

"Then we should send her a message. Let her know to be extra cautious."

"Although I doubt he could get into the Spiral Labyrinth, it isn't a bad idea," Magnus grabbed a pen out and began to write out our theories and recount the event as I gladly devoured my omelette.

"Mark said he would go to the party by the way," I informed as I finished my meal.

"That's great, I can't wait to meet him. Hopefully this one doesn't get as out of hand as some of my previous ones."

"Out of hand? Magnus, I don't want to invite him to a wild and crazy party."

"Jeffrey, all of my parties are wild and crazy," Magnus laughed and snatched up my plate so he could send it over to the sink, "Some are just more than others."

"He's a Shadowhunter, if the Downworlders get out of hand we could just cause issues."

"They aren't stupid," Magnus grinned, "Well, maybe some are. They'll behave in front of a Shadowhunter. They don't want to get arrested."

I rolled my eyes, "Do you need any help setting up?"

"No, you just relax. You need to finish recuperating after everything in L.A. and now the demon attack."

"I'll be fine."

Magnus shot me a glare and his cat eyes flashed with anger, "Rest, you are going to be lively at my party and not drained. The guest room is just on the other side of the living room and to your right. Bathroom is right across from that."

"Alright, alright," I backed off and retreated to the bed in the guest room where I had to disturb Chairman Meow from his slumber. He gave me the same glare as Magnus before stretching and trotting out of the room. The walls were a pale tan color with lovely wooden borders carved with patterns of stars and spirals. The bed was fitted with royal purple bedding and around a dozen pillows varying in size. I sank into the memory foam as I laid myself down. Slowly drifting to sleep.

 **A few hours later at the Institute**

 **Mark's Point of View**

I rummaged through my closet tossing out various button up shirts, jackets, and jeans before a knock came at the door. "Who is it?"

"It's me, Isabelle."

"Come in," I called out as a knelt down to grab a couple pairs of shoes, one dressy, the other a nice pair of black sneakers.

"What happened in here?" a girl with long, ink-black hair that went down to her waist, and dark brown-gold flecked eyes that were usually mistaken for black. She shared the same slender eyebrows, which were raised, pale, high-colored skin as her brother Alec. "I didn't know we were expecting a tornado."

"No tornado," I took a seat on the bed and began to filter through my shirts, "I'm going to a party tonight and need a formal outfit that isn't too formal."

"You should have called me right away," she immediately sat next to me and snatched up a dark purple long sleeve button up and held it up to my chest, "I am an expert on parties."

"Sorry, I forgot that you and Alec didn't go with to the Bone City."

"That place creeps me out, too quiet and musky."

I couldn't argue with her there, the place was underground and made of the ashes of fallen Shadowhunters. Some would argue that it is even haunted.

"What kind of party is it? Are you going with someone?"

"It's a Downworlder party," I flushed, "And I'm going with a date."

"Oh ho ho," she grinned, "A date at a Downworlder party? You won't see any judgement here. I've dated numerous Downworlders. Is it Magnus's party?"

"Yeah, how did you know?"

"I was invited too, I have the flyer back in my room. I didn't really plan on going, but maybe I will so I can meet your date."

"Oh you don't have to," I turned away, "I'm sure we'll be okay."

"Who is it anyways? Maybe I know them."

"He's a Warlock, from L.A."

"A he?!" her jaw dropped, but she quickly corrected herself, "Don't worry, your secret is safe with me. I don't care honestly, just not what I expected."

"Thank you, I don't really want everyone to know yet. It is only our second date."

"I see, so that is what your trip to L.A. was about," she grabbed a dark blue shirt now and held that up, "Okay, I would go with the purple shirt, black jeans, the black sneakers and a leather jacket."

"I don't have a leather jacket," I looked at my hoodies and dress jacket I had laid out on the bed.

"The armory does because they are a bit of extra protection if we want one when traveling."

"Ahhh, that's right, I forgot."

There was another knocking on the door and it opened to reveal her brother. Alec was tall and fit, with a thin, wiry build. He had jet-black hair that ends at his jaw and stunning blue eyes. "Jace and Clary are back and they would like us all to meet in the training room to discuss what they discovered with the Silent Brothers." He scanned the room and saw the mess of clothes, "Izzy, are you trying one of your makeovers again?"

"No," she put her hand to her chest as if offended by the accusation, "He is going to a party tonight and needed help with an outfit."

"And I am sure you were more than happy to oblige," he laughed as he lead the way down the halls to the training room, "I don't think I've ever seen you go to a party." He looked back at me.

"He has a date," Isabelle answered for me, "So the outfit is extremely important."

"Ahh, good for you," he congratulated me as we entered the training room to see Jace and Clary gathered in the center. Clary had green eyes, curly red hair, slender figure, small chest and narrow hips, and Jace had fine, curly, golden blond hair, long eyelashes, and eyes that looked gold in the light. He had a slim, muscular build, angular face, and was about 5'11" in height.

"What's up?" Izzy placed one hand on her hip and looked between the two.

"So, we found out why she can't remember anything about the Shadow World, but also that the Silent Brothers can't fix it," Jace began, "A Warlock named Magnus Bane placed blocks in her mind to erase any memories of it."

"Magnus Bane, the High Warlock of New York? That's some pretty powerful stuff," Izzy's eyes flashed with surprise.

"So you know where he lives?" Clary asked, "Can we go see him?"

"Better yet, I have an invitation to go see him and so does Mark. He is having a party tonight and I am invited. All of you can be my plus ones."

"More like plus three," Jace laughed, "Do I need to ask why you are invited to a Downworlder party?"

"No you don't," she brushed him off, "Now everyone has to dress nice. Magnus is a classy guy, and he won't talk to you dressed like that." Isabelle gestured to Clary's boyish clothing.

"This is all I have. Unless we want to go back to my apartment, but I don't know if I have anything worthy their either."

"You can wear something of mine," Izzy sighed, "I'm sure I have something that can make you look good."

Clary wasn't sure if she should be offended or not, but decided to just deal with it as Izzy drug her out of the training room.

"Now, how do you know Magnus Bane?" Jace looked to me, "Izzy said you were invited too."

"Oh, I don't know him. I just know another guest. They invited me to go with."

"You certainly are building connections quickly here," Jace rubbed the back of his head before leaving to get changed.

"Is that a bad thing?" I blushed again and looked away.

"No, connections are handy in our line of work," Jace flipped his hand through the air to dismiss any misunderstandings of his previous statement.

Alec watched Jace as he left, almost longingly, then made to follow him.

"Hey Alec, do you have a minute?" I stopped him at the door and waited for Jace to get out of hearing distance.

"Sure, what is it?"

"Do you like Jace?"

The color drained from Alec's face like water from the tub after a warm bath. He progressed from a look of shock, to dread, then settling on anger, "Why would you say that? He is my Parabatai and a guy."

I sensed the harshness in his tone and raised my hands in self defense, "Hey, I didn't mean to offend you. If it helps, I'm dating a male Warlock-Shadowhunter hybrid."

"A what?" his mouth opened slightly and now he looked more shocked than angry.

"He is part Shadowhunter and part Warlock. He can even bare Runes, but they disappear shortly after."

"That isn't possible. Any crossbreeds like that are typically stillborn."

"Well, I saw him use a Stele myself. He hasn't fully explained it to me yet, but I hope to find out more tonight maybe after the party."

"As for everything else," his expression turned stern, "Don't say a word to anyone. It is against the law to fall in love with your Parabatai and most Shadowhunters aren't okay with homosexuality."

"I'll keep your secret safe if you keep mine."

We seemed to reach a mutual agreement as we parted ways in the hallway and I made my way to the armory. I took out my phone and typed out a text to Jeff, 'Hey, I guess the rest of the Institute needs to talk to Magnus so they will be coming with. I'm sorry. :(' I hit send and put the phone back in my pocket as I browsed the different jackets.

 **Just after the events above**

 **Jeff's Point of View**

I awoke to the buzzing of my phone, and grabbed it from my pocket. Mark's message was the only one on the screen. It took a minute for my eyes to adjust, and then I typed out my reply, 'That's okay, the more the merrier. :D' I sent it on its way and rolled over to see the Chairman staring right into my eyes. "AHHHHHHH!" I screamed and jumped off the bed, as the cat just stared at me then walked off with a flick of its tail.

"What's wrong?" Magnus was in the doorway staring at me.

"Your cat scared me."

"How could he have scared you?"

"He was just lying there staring at me."

"How will you ever get in a relationship if they can't lie next to you and stare?"

"I don't think they are going to just stare at me in my sleep, and they aren't going to be a cat!"

"Hey, don't judge," he scolded me and shrugged it off, "Now the party is going to be starting in an hour, so you might want to get changed and contact your date."

"Shoot, all of my clothes are back at my place!"

"You can borrow some of mine. Come along," he lead me down the hall and into a luxurious bedroom with a California King bed, and deep blue bedding. There were various paintings hanging from the walls from all different times as well as some sculptures on the night stands and dressers. He opened another door to reveal a large walk in closet neatly sorted and packed to the brim with suits, ties, jeans, dress pants, shoes, boots, shorts, kilts, and scarves. "Let me see," he snapped his fingers and clothing began to float off the hangers and push itself onto my body. "Dark blue is good because it brings out your eyes," Magnus said as a dark blue button up snapped closed around me, "Then you'll need a pair of dark jeans." Dark blue skinny jeans hung themselves over my arm. "As for shoes, I think some work-style boots would give you a nice rugged look," a black pair of leather boots shifted in front of my feet, "Then you need an accessory." A black scarf draped across my shoulders after wrapping around my neck once.

"Umm, I could have picked it out myself."

"You would not look as fabulous as you do now," he slapped me on the shoulder, "Now change quickly." He dismissed himself and closed the closet door behind him.

I changed into the new outfit and did a few turns in front of the mirror. _Magnus certainly knows his fashion. I should have him buy my wardrobe._ I exited the room and found Magnus waiting on the bed.

"You look even better than I expected," he was grinning, clearly proud of himself.

"Gee, thanks," I laughed, "I didn't realize how hideous I was, and I really don't appreciate that I have a great miracle worker such as yourself."

"Your sarcasm is neither appreciated nor necessary," he joined me in laughing, "You know that I didn't mean anything bad. You're date is going to love it no matter what. Now get going and pick him up."

"Alright, alright," he escorted me out past the bar that was sparkling with drinks of various colors, likely fairy in nature, the music was blasting fairly loudly, but I'm sure barriers were in place to muffle the sound.

I left the building and went down the nearby alley, raising my hand to create a portal before stepping through to the Institute. I passed through the large iron gates and approached the towering cathedral. The large mahogany doors were embedded with images of angels. Prominently there was one that was rising out of water holding a sword and a gauntlet. Nearby there was a rope that I pulled chiming a bell throughout the church.

I tapped my foot and toyed my fingers through my hair before I remembered that I could let myself in. "In the name of the Clave," I stated, placing my hand on the door, "I ask entry to this holy place. In the name of the Battle That Never Ends, I ask the use of your weapons. And in the name of the Angel Raziel I ask your blessings on my mission against the darkness." The door creaked open as if caught by the wind and I entered the grandiose entryway. The walls were lined with stained glass windows depicting the same image of the Angel with a cup and sword rising out of the water. On the other side of the room was a set of iron bars blocking an old elevator shaft that was creaking and groaning as the elevator was surely on its way down. The gates creaked apart as five Shadowhunters and one Mundane exited the elevator. Mark was there wearing a dark purple button up covered with a fine leather jacket. His jeans were a dark blue almost black, and he had black sneakers that looked brand new. Isabelle was next to him wearing a silvery skirt and a sequined top, and her nails were painted like glittering coins. Strands of silver beads were caught in her hair making her look like a sort of moon goddess. Next to her was the Mundane, he was woefully under dressed in a too-big pair of black pants and a black shirt that was turned inside out hiding the logo. He was gangly, with dark brown hair and eyes, and beautiful eyelashes hidden behind a pair of glasses. Then there was Jace and Alec dressed in generic all black clothing that fit tightly to accentuate their muscles. Lastly was a girl with red hair that was almost the color of a carrot. She wore a dress that was borderline too short, ending a couple of inches above her knee. Her backpack was thrown over one shoulder landing between her shoulder blades.

"Wow, looks like we have the entire party right here," I chuckled.

"How did you get in?" Jace's face was stern and his arms crossed causing his muscles to flex, "Warlocks can't enter the Institute without us opening the door."

"Ahh, he didn't tell everyone," I smiled to Mark, "Don't worry, it isn't a secret anymore. I'm a Shadowhunter and a Warlock."

"Which I told him it isn't possible," Alec interjected, "All half breeds are stillborn."

"I was a rare case where my mother was an unmarked Shadowhunter."

"An unmarked Shadowhunter? How is that possible?" Isabelle questioned, "All Shadowhunters are given marks at birth."

"Not if they are kidnapped by faeries as a baby and replaced with a sickly mundane child. She was then attacked by a greater demon that eventually lead to the birth of myself and my sister. So we are Warlocks and Shadowhunters because the blood of the Angel is dominant."

"How do we not know of this?" Alec was sceptical, "Shouldn't this have been in our history books?"

"Not if Shadowhunters find it shameful," I scanned his expression and something was familiar, "What is your last name?"

"Lightwood," Isabelle answered me, "Our family runs this Institute."

"Lightwood, I have heard that name before," I crossed my arms in thought, "When was that? Where was that? Peru? Paris? London?"

"We used to have ancestors in London. That was a long time ago," Alec interrupted, "Like the early 1900s."

"Ahh, that must be it, I was there then. That was when all of this happened. I think their names were Gabriel and Gideon, but you look a lot like a Will Herondale. I think he would be your extremely great uncle."

"You knew our family?" Isabelle's brows rose, "Like as friends?"

"No, as family. My sister ended up marrying Mr. Herondale. So, in a way, I would be an extremely great uncle, but only through marriage. We aren't related by blood."

"Do you have any blood relatives?" Mark asked, "Kids or anything."

"My sister had kids. They were all Shadowhunters, but had some odd abilities from the small amount of Warlock blood. Girls aren't really my thing, so I have no kids."

"Well, we should probably get going right?" the Mundane asserted himself, "The party is soon."

"I don't believe we have met, I'm Jeff, and you are?"

"I'm Simon."

"Okay Simon, you probably didn't know this, but I am a Warlock. Think Harry Potter, but I don't need a wand, and I look a lot better," I grinned cheekily, "Seriously though, I can get us anywhere we want with a portal."

"A portal?" the girl with the red hair seemed as puzzled as the Mundane.

"Step outside and I'll show you."

Everyone followed me outside and through the gate. We went around the corner and I raised my hand causing the stone wall to fold inward and a blue swirling portal took its place. The girl and boy's mouths dropped in shock as they watched the colors swirl around.

"You must be Clary," I stopped their staring, "Magnus mentioned you when we saw you back at Pandemonium."

"You know Magnus?"

"Yes, he and I are good friends. We go back a hundred years."

"So you know why he took my memories?"

"No, I don't know that. He didn't say much. Just that it was complicated. He's a pretty good guy though, and I'm sure he'll help you the best he can."

Her face dropped at my lack of knowledge, "Oh."

"Now, everyone should join hands so that no one gets lost. You need to know where you are going when you use a portal, and I'm guessing that I am the only one that has been to Magnus's before."

Everyone grabbed hands, and I lead our chain through the portal and out to the front of Magnus's building. The street out front had several motorcycles. They were sleek and silvery, with low-slung black chassis. Oily-looking tubes and pipes slithered up and around them, ropy as veins. There was a queasy sense of something organic about the bikes, like the bio-creatures in a Giger painting.

"There are vampires here," Jace admired the bikes.

"They look like motorcycles to me," Simon walked over to one and Isabelle was at his side.

"They are, but they've been altered to run on demon energies," she explained, "Vampires use them, it lets them get around fast at night. It's not strictly Covenant, but…"

"I've heard some bikes can fly," Alec said eagerly, "Or go invisible at the flick of a switch. Or operate under water." Jace ran his hand along the motorcycle. Alec looked at him strangely, "What are you doing?"

He quickly tucked his hand in his pocket, "Nothing."

"Well, come along we are going to be late," I ushered them up the stairs and rang the bell for Magnus's. The door flung open and Magnus blocked the doorway. His hair was a dense black crown of spikes. He wore tight jeans and a black shirt covered with dozens of metal buckles. His eyes were crusted with a raccoon mask of charcoal glitter, his lips painted a dark shade of blue. He raked his ring-laden hand through his spiked hair and regarded us thoughtfully.

"I didn't realize you were dating the whole Institute," Magnus shot me a look, then his eyes seemed to settle on Alec.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," I gave an apologetic look, "I guess they needed to talk to you."

He glared at me, "Alright, come in and please try not to murder any of my guests." He stepped aside for us to enter. He stopped Jace, and snatched the Stele from his hand, "Keep it in your pants, Shadowhunter." He slid it into Jace's pocket who was taken aback by the aggressiveness.

Isabelle snatched Simon's hand and drug him off to the dance floor as Clary's glare followed them. The music was booming from what seemed like everywhere and people were at the bar downing glasses of the colorful liquid.

"Hey you guys!" Abby approached us, she had a plate with various types of chips and veggies and a glass of water, "I was beginning to think you weren't going to show."

"Sorry, we got to talking back at the Institute," Mark explained, "How are you settling into New York?"

"Definitely different from L.A., but I don't mind it here. Magnus certainly knows how to throw a party."

"That's for sure," I laughed, "You should have seen his old parties."

"Is the party for anything?" Mark asked.

I removed the flyer from my pocket, "Help Celebrate Chairman Meow's Birthday!" was scrawled across the top.

"It's his cat's birthday?" Abby giggled, "This is an awfully big party for a cat I haven't seen since I got here."

"MAGNUS BANE!" a booming voice sounded and a man with a pointed goatee pointed his large finger at Magnus, "Someone just poured holy water into the gas tank of my bike. It's ruined. Destroyed. All the pipes are melted."

"Melted?" Magnus murmured, "How Dreadful."

"I want to know who did it." The man bared his teeth, showing long pointed canines as thin and sharp as needles, "I thought you swore there'd be no wolf-men here tonight, Bane."

"I invited none of the Moon's Children," Magnus said, examining his glittery nails. "Precisely because of your stupid little feud. If any of them decided to sabotage your bike, they weren't a guest of mine and are therefore…" He offered a winsome smile. "Not my responsibility."

The vampire roared with rage, jabbing his finger toward Magnus. "Are you trying to tell me that-"

Magnus's glitter-coated index finger twitched just a fraction, so slightly that one would think he hadn't moved at all. Mid-roar the vampire gagged and clutched at his throat. His mouth worked, but no sound came out.

"You've worn out your welcome," Magnus said lazily, opening his eyes very wide. "Now go." He splayed the fingers of his hand, and the vampire turned as smartly as if someone had grabbed his shoulders and spun him around. He marched back into the crowd, heading toward the door.

Jace whistled under his breath. "That was impressive."

"You mean that little hissy fit?" Magnus cast his eyes toward the ceiling, "I know."

Alec made a choking noise that took me a moment to recognize as laughter.

"We put the holy water in his gas tank, you know," he said.

"ALEC," said Jace, "Shut up."

"I assumed that," said Magnus, looking amused. "Vindictive, aren't you? You know their bikes run on demon energies. I doubt he'll be able to repair it."

"One less leech with a fancy ride," said Jace, "My heart bleeds."

"I heard some of them can make their bikes fly," put in Alec, who looked animated for once. He was almost smiling.

"Merely and old warlocks' tale," said Magnus, his cat's eyes glittering. "So is that why you wanted to crash my party? Just to wreck some bloodsucker bikes?"

"No." Jace was all business again "We need to talk to you. Preferably somewhere private.

Magnus raised an eyebrow, "Am I in trouble with the Clave?"

"No," said Jace.

"Probably not," said Alec, "Ow!" He glared at Jace, who had kicked him sharply in the ankle.

"No," Jace repeated, "We can talk to you under the seal of the Covenant. If you help us, anything you say will be confidential."

"And if I don't help you?"

Jace spread his hands wide. The rune tattoos on his palms stood out stark and black. "Maybe nothing. Maybe a visit from the Silent City."

Magnus's voice was honey poured over shards of ice. "That's quite a choice you're offering me, little Shadowhunter."

"It's no choice at all."

"Yes, that's exactly what I meant."

Jace, Clary and Magnus went down the hall to Magnus's room while I brought Mark over to the bar and Abby followed.

"Do you want anything to drink?" I asked and snapped my fingers bringing two glasses out from under the bar and making the scoop drop some ice in each one. "I would just not recommend anything colorful. It is probably something fairy in origin, and you never know what that could do."

"I'll just take a Dr. Pepper," Mark answered, "Not really into any alcohol."

"No problem," I sent the glasses flying to the soda dispenser and they began to fill with Dr. Pepper and Pepsi.

"So, Magnus seems…" he paused for a moment, "Interesting."

"Yeah, that's for sure, but we have been friends since I found out what I am."

"Why have you two never dated?" he eyed me curiously.

"Magnus isn't my type. He is a tad too feminine for me. Not to mention he is like a brother to me."

"True, I guess you don't dig the eyeliner and makeup?" Mark laughed.

"Not particularly, but to each their own, and he makes it work." We all three laughed.

"What's it like at the Institute?" Abby asked, "I mean at least you have people your age to hang out with."

"It's pretty good. They are all pretty nice. Jace is kind of a show off…"

"I never would have guessed," I interrupted making us all laugh again.

"Isabelle and Alec are nice though. Alec is a bit complicated, but I think we are all in that age when we are still figuring ourselves out. Plus I just got here a few weeks ago."

"That's cool," Abby smiled, "I've never been in an Institute. They never really called me over to the one in L.A."

"They're really grand old buildings, and filled with a lot of history. Each Institute is different too, and equipped to best suit the area they are in."

"Yes, I have spent a lot of time in the London Institute," I added, "It is noteworthy for its large library of literature."

"The Institute in the Philippines is known for their collection of weaponry. Almost all Shadowhunters assigned there specialize in different weapons."

"What about the one in L.A.?"

"I actually haven't been there," I admitted, "I know that it is run by the Blackthorn family, but that is about all. They always contacted Malcolm whenever they needed something."

"But the people we met weren't Blackthorns," Mark pointed out.

"I assume they were guests that may only be there temporarily."

From the corner of my eye I caught Magnus, Jace, and Clary return. They were quickly joined by Alec.

"Do we want to be nosey and see what happened?" I asked gathering our attention on them.

"Why not?" Mark got up and we joined him as we approached them. At the same time a very pink-faced and blotchy Isabelle, smelling strongly of alcohol got to them. "Jace! Alec! Where have you been? I've been looking all over…"

"Where's Simon?" Clary interrupted.

Isabelle wobbled. "He's a rat," she said darkly.

"Did he do something to you?" Alec was full of brotherly concern. "Did he touch you? If he tried anything…"

"No, Alec," Isabelle said irritably, "Not like that. He's a _rat_."

"She's drunk," said Jace, beginning to turn away in disgust.

"I'm not," Isabelle said indignantly, "Well, maybe a little, but that's not the point. The point is, Simon drank one of those blue drink - I told him not to, but he didn't listen - and he turned into a rat."

"A _rat_?" Clary repeated incredulously, "You don't mean…"

"I mean a rat," Isabelle said. "Little. Brown. Scaly tail."

"The Clave isn't going to like this," said Alec dubiously, "I'm pretty sure turning mundanes into rats is against the Law."

"Technically she didn't turn him into a rat," Jace pointed out. "The worst she could be accused of is negligence."

"Who _cares_ about the stupid Law?" Clary screamed, grabbing hold of Isabelle's wrist. "My best friend is a rat!"

"Ouch!" Isabelle tried to pull her wrist back. "Let go of me!"

"Not until you tell me where he is." Clary looked like she was ready to smack her. "I can't believe you just left him - he's probably terrified-"

"If he hasn't been stepped on," Jace pointed out unhelpfully.

"I didn't leave him. He ran under the bar," Isabelle protested pointing, "Let go! You're denting my bracelet."

"Ugh!" Clary roared, tossing Isabelle's hand back at her, and storming off to look under the bar.

"Well, how's that for excitement," Abby added as we watched Clary beckon the rat to come out from under the bar. When she finally got him she returned to us.

"Can you please turn him back?" she asked Magnus.

"There's no need."

"NO NEED!" she exclaimed, "HE'S A RAT!"

"There's no need because the effects are only temporary. He'll turn back in a few hours. Forcing the change would only put him under more stress than he already it."

"Oh Simon," she frowned and pet his head with her finger, "I'm so sorry. I should've been watching you."

"You can't be his babysitter," Jace asserted, "He's almost an adult."

"He's my best friend. He isn't used to all of this stuff. I shouldn't leave him alone in a strange place."

"My place is not that strange," Magnus argued. I laughed and he shot me a glare.

"You know what I meant," Clary rolled her eyes, "Come on Simon. I'll take you back to the Institute and then we'll get you home." She placed him in her backpack and zipped it shut. Before showing them out, Magnus pulled Clary aside.

Isabelle began weeping excessively as Alec tried to console her.

"Are you going to head out with them?" I looked to Mark.

"I think I might, I'm still recovering from the trip and could use a bit more rest."

"Of course, I probably should too." We dismissed ourselves outside where the vampires were still fussing about their motorcycles. "Did you want me to create a portal?"

"No, it's alright," he smiled at me, "I think we'll just take the train because the whole rat issue."

"Okay, thank you for coming," I shook his hand, but he pulled me in, wrapping the other hand around my waist and placing his lips upon mine.

It was only a few seconds before the door opened and we were interrupted by Magnus. "Oh my, are we interrupting?"

We parted faster than a cat from water, both of our faces red. Alec seemed to throw a quick glance at Magnus, but it was almost indistinguishable.

"We were just saying goodbye," I looked away.

"I didn't know he was french," Magnus gave me a glittering wink.

"I'm sorry, but can we just go," Clary interrupted, "I really want to get Simon home." The group of Shadowhunters took off, but one of the Vampires bumped Clary who was too flustered to care.

I watched the vampires huddle together and laugh. They seemed to be passing something around.

"Don't get involved," Magnus muttered under his breath, "They are nothing but trouble."

"You know I love trouble," I laughed jumping down the stairs and planting my feet firmly behind the vampires, "What's up?" They quickly broke their huddle and I watched the one that bumped Clary slip something in his pocket.

"Nothing," a pale girl with long black hair shot me a glare, "We are just trying to figure out what we are going to do with our friend's bike."

"Oh really?" I raised my eyebrows, "Then if I ask him to empty his pockets…" I gestured to the one that bumped Clary, "There wouldn't be anything out of the ordinary?"

The vampire turned and ran unbelievably fast as the girl stepped in front of me.

"I guess that answers my question," my eyes flashed as my hair lifted and sparks flew from my fingertips, "Now I'm angry."

"What do you care? They are just Shadowhunters," the girl's fangs were showing, "Not like it will affect you."

"I care because one of them is going to be my boyfriend, and if you mess with his friends it is my duty to step in."

"You are with a Shadowhunter?!" she grimaced, "You know what they have done to us."

"That was hundreds of years ago. You cannot blame the children that don't know of the faults of the past."

"You're just going to get yourself hurt. They die young you know, always putting themselves at risk."

"Well, he won't die young if I'm around to prevent it."

She darted off, and I raised my hand to stop her, but Magnus got in the way.

"I'm not having you start a war in front of my apartment," he scolded me, "You can call your Shadowhunter and inform them that the rat is at the Hotel Dumort. If they go and threaten with the powers of the Clave, they will get their friend back."

I took my phone out and called Mark, informing him of the missing Simon and the vampires that held him captive. Abby joined me downstairs.

"What are we going to do?"

"We?" I asked, "You can stay here and enjoy the rest of the party. I'm not sure what I'm going to do yet."

"You are my mentor," she put her hands on her hips, "I am going with you to the Hotel Dumort."

"Fine, fine," I waived her off, "But we are getting there like Mundanes. I need to save my energy in case their is a fight."

Magnus shook his head, "Be careful okay, I don't want to clean up any messes that aren't my own."

"You know I can handle myself Magnus," I grinned, "We'll be just fine."

We parted ways as Magnus returned to his party and we made for the trams.


	6. Chapter 6

**6**

 **"I always wish the hotels were like they are in movies and TV shows, where if you're in Paris, right outside your window is the Eiffel Tower. In Egypt, the pyramids are right there. In the movies, every hotel has a monument right outside your window. My hotel rooms overlook the garbage dumpster in the back alley." ~Gilbert Gottfried**

We sat on the tram for about 25 minutes before it reached our stop. Abby and I made our way up to the grungier part of New York and proceeded down the street.

"Vampires always pick the nicest places to live," Abby laughed, "Seems like the friendliest part of town."

"Only the finest," I chuckled as a large rat scurried across our path. We passed all of the boarded up businesses that were covered in graffiti before finally reaching the hotel. The windows were all dark and boarded, and the old sign in front that once read 'Welcome to the Hotel Dumont' had the n crossed out and replaced with a red 'R'.

"The Dead Hotel," Abby grimaced, "To think that this was once a bustling place."

"Now you can't even get in," I gestured to the layer of bricks blocking the door, "I mean, I could blast our way in, but that would be announcing our arrival."

"There must be another way in," Abby examined the rest of the building, "They can't walk through walls."

"No, but they could probably get to the roof easily enough." We rounded the corner of the building and spotted four people talking near a dumpster. It was Mark along with Jace and Clary, but they were talking with a young boy no more than fifteen. He had dark black, curly hair, very thin eyebrows, and honey-colored skin. He was slightly built and was about six inches shorter than Jace.

"You can't go with us," Jace argued with the boy.

"Aye dios mio," the boy placed his hand to his face, "I want to avenge my brother. He went in there and never came out. Besides, I know the way in."

"Well, if it isn't my favorite people," I interrupted, "What's going on?"

"He was just going to help us get into the hotel," Clary informed us, "He said he knows a secret entrance."

"And I am guessing he wants to go with once we get inside," I glanced him up and down, "How old are you?"

"I'm 15, my brother went in there a few months ago with friends, but he never came out. I've wanted revenge ever since."

"Revenge is not something to be thrown around," I advised, "This place is extremely dangerous. Especially if you know people that have disappeared here."

"I have a weapon," he showed a pocket knife, "I can defend myself."

I noticed the cross around his neck, "Do you believe in heaven and hell?"

"Of course," he said in a thick spanish accent, "I am sure that my broth…"

"Is likely dead," I interjected and gave him a cross look, "You would risk dying as well by following us in there."

"Are you saying that you guys are going to die?"

"No, he's saying that we don't want to have another person to protect," Jace grimaced.

"Alright," the boy finally agreed, "It is going to be there, under the dumpster."

We moved it aside to reveal a grate in the ground with a slick stone shoot leading to the basement of the hotel.

"Thank you," Clary nodded to the boy, "And I'm sorry about your brother." She followed Jace as they slid down the shoot.

"Geronimo," Abby went next, screaming with excitement.

"After you," Mark gestured for me and I accepted, sliding gracefully down to the damp basement. Once I reached the bottom I turned and saw Mark approaching quickly. Stretching out my hands sparks scattered slowly bringing him into my embrace.

"Alright, let's hurry and find the rat before we cause problems."

"His name is Simon," Clary kicked Jace.

Just before we left we heard the sound of feet hitting softly on the concrete behind us. The boy had followed us anyway, and was in a crouch near the base of the shoot.

Jace shot him a venomous look, "What did you say your name was?"

"Raphael Santiago," he glared back. I felt a light bulb go off in my head at the familiarity of the name. Jace moved quickly as a dagger flew from his hand towards Raphael. I tried to stop it with magic, but I realized that something strange had happened. Instead of a look of shock, Raphael calmly moved his head slightly to the left, dodging the the dagger and sending it sinking into the wall behind him.

"I knew you weren't a mundane," Jace eyed him, "You are trying to lure us into a trap."

Raphael's canines flashed sharply like needles, "Shadowhunters are not supposed to enter our territory unless we broke the law."

"They kidnapped my friend," Clary argued, "We just want him back."

"Raphael Santiago," I interrupted the feud, "Now I remember, you know Magnus."

He shot me a glare, "Yes, I know him."

"No need for the venom," I motioned for him to turn it down, "You were turned back in '53 right? Your mother gave you that cross." I noticed the scar under the necklace where it had burnt his skin.

"I don't owe you or them any favors," he spat between gritted teeth.

"No, and I never insinuated that you did. However, it doesn't change the fact that some of your clan kidnapped a mundane. I believe that would be breaking the law."

"They would never."

"Perhaps not knowingly. Perhaps they just thought they were pulling a prank and stealing a pet rat, but he is a mundane transformed into a rat."

"They could have asked for his return. Not try to break in with weapons. They are looking for a fight."

"Now Raphael, we both know that the Night Children were never good negotiators, and they were worried for his life. Now, if you would please excuse us." I snapped my fingers, and he flew back into the wall. The bricks seemed to come alive, forming bonds to hold him in place.

"You aren't going to get away with this," he shouted as I assisted to get us up a broken stairway.

It wasn't until we reached the third floor that we finally heard a commotion. There was several voices coming from behind two large doors carved with elegant designs of flowers and trees. The door muffled it too much to understand what was going on, but there was definitely a large group in there. Jace made to open the door, but I cautioned him.

"Are you sure you want to barge in on a horde of Vampires?" I raised my eyebrows, "I mean, there is only five of us and we don't know how many of them."

"Are you saying that you aren't as strong as you claim?" Jace mocked, "Two Warlocks and three Shadowhunters can handle some rowdy vampires."

"Some maybe, but we don't know how many. Clary hardly counts as a Shadowhunter," a pause and look at her, "No offense," I turn back to Jace, "And Abby isn't fully trained as a Warlock. So, it is really two and a half Shadowhunters, and one and a half Warlocks."

The door opened to reveal a young woman with pitch black hair that fell like curtains around her face. Her features were sharp as if they were chiseled out of stone.

"Who are you?" she glared, "Shadowhunters aren't allowed to enter our land without justifiable cause. As far as I am aware, we have not done anything wrong."

"Except take an extra person home from the party," Jace grinned, "Surely you must have noticed."

"He was my friend, Simon," Clary added.

"You are friends with a vampire?" the girl seemed skeptical.

"No, he is a normal human boy. Not a Shadowhunter either, just human. He was turned into a small brown rat at the party. Maybe someone thought he was a pet."

A thin blonde vampire emerged from the crowd holding a small rat. "You mean this rat? Man, I thought it was Zeke."

"Simon," Clary called out and the rat wiggled in the man's hand.

"I say we give him back," he sighed, "He has bit me at least five times already."

Jace laughed slightly.

"Wait, what will you do for us?"

"What will we do…?" Clary was shocked.

"You broke the Covenant," Jace pointed out, "You cannot kill him."

"He is trespassing, so we can do what we want. The Covenant doesn't apply to trespassers."

"You guys brought him here, so he isn't trespassing."

"Technicalities," it was Raphael behind us, "We all know that the Covenant and the Accords are going to be meaningless now that Valentine has returned."

"Where did you hear that?" Jace spat at him.

"The whole Downworld knows it, and you do too. You just choose not to believe it."

I thought on my feet and held up my hand. The door flew off it's hinges and wrapped itself around Raphael. I shot sparks around my hand emblazing it in blue flames that formed the sign of the cross.

"There, now we have something to trade. Raphael for the rat," I glared at the vampires that looked ready to pounce, "One step and he will be crushed into a talking head."

"You can't do that," the girl's incisors were visible now, "It would be against the Covenant."

"Which, if you are to be believed, is about to be meaningless anyways."

Clary took the opportunity to dash past the girl and snatch Simon from the vampire boy. The rat darted up her sleeve, his tiny paws gripping tightly in the fabric. She turned to come back to us, but the girl had snatched her ankle. "Let go!" Clary kicked back bringing a shriek out of the girl. She reached up and smacked clary across the face, sending her head back. Jace darted toward them. I released Raphael and shot him a glare, "Call them off."

"You are trespassing," he hissed, "I shall not do anything."

I sent sparks towards the crowd of vampires as the five of us retreated for the stairwell. Clary squealed and I looked back to see Raphael clutching at her jacket. Before any of us could react, there was a quick brown streak and Raphael released her, howling in pain. Simon had bitten him and was now dangling from his hand as Raphael attempted to fling him off. Blood droplets scattered as I cast a spell lifting Simon off of Raphael and placing him back on Clary's shoulder. We made it to the base of the stairs when there was a loud crashing sound behind us. A pack of large dogs, no wolves darted through the windows of the hotel, filling the room that we just left.

"Now we have a situation," Jace pointed out.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?" Raphael shouted, "YOU AREN'T ALLOWED HERE!"

"We didn't come for a blooding," one of the silver gray wolves transformed back into a man with brown hair like ropes, "We are here for the girl?"

"What girl?" Raphael snarled.

"The human girl," the man pointed at Clary.

"Me?" Clary gasped.

"We should get going," I put up a protection charm and we darted up the stairs, "That won't hold long."

"How do you know the Werewolves?" Jace asked Clary.

"I don't."

"Well they certainly know you," Mark pointed out as we climbed another flight of stairs. The sound of shattering glass filled the air as my char shattered and a group of wolves darted up after us. We had reached a door leading to the roof that we jammed with a Seraph Blade after closing it behind us.

"So they can fly?" Jace was looking at the line of motorcycles.

"Great, now all of you should go," I instructed them, as I watched the door shake as it was being battered by wolves.

"What about you?" Mark frowned, "You can't stay here."

"I'll leave as soon as I know you guys are gone. They won't harm me, I'm a friend of Magnus, and too valuable. Not to mention that I have done nothing wrong."

Jace was already on one of the bikes, mashing at the various switches. Clary reluctantly got on behind him.

"I'm not leaving you," Mark flashed a Seraph Blade, "You aren't going to do everything alone."

"I'd rather know that you are safe."

"I'm safe with you aren't I?"

I flushed and turned away.

"Go," Mark told Jace, "I'll be fine."

The wolves busted down the door as the engine roared to life. The silver gray wolf was in front and dashed at the bike, but I sent him flying into the wall as they took of into the night. They had us surrounded when the vampires joined them, and I raised my hands with blue sparks flying off my fingertips.

"They stole my bike," the blonde vampire cried out.

"And you stole their friend, so it is even," I glared, "Now we would like to leave as well if you don't mind."

The man with the rope-like hair came over to us, "How do you three know the girl?"

"I don't really," I looked at him, "She doesn't seem to know you guys either."

"She knows Luke, and he wanted to know that she is safe."

"She called Luke earlier," Mark recalled, "He told her to stay away and that she was more trouble than she is worth."

"He had to because Valentine had sent his men to sniff around. He didn't want Clary to get caught up in it."

"I think that is unavoidable at this point," Abby chimed in, "She knows that she is a Shadowhunter. If Valentine is back, it is natural that they are going to have to deal with it."

"I am just telling you his reasoning," the guy protested, "He probably didn't know how much she knew."

"Who is Valentine?" Mark interrupted, "Do you mean the dead Shadowhunter that caused all those problems years ago?"

"He isn't dead," I explained, "The Angel told me so while we were in Los Angeles. He is back, and he is planning something. Likely trying to kill every Downworlder."

"And the Clave knows about this?" Mark was shocked, "Why haven't they had us looking for him?"

"I'm sure that the Clave knows, but doesn't believe it to be true. They are a rather ignorant bunch."

"We can't just sit by and let him kill us," Raphael asserted, "We have to do something even if the Shadowhunters won't." He shot a venomous glare at Mark.

"Yes," I agreed, "But that doesn't mean we should not keep the Shadowhunters informed. You can't throw out the dozen because of one bad egg."

"But he might have spies," Raphael argued, "You remember that the Lightwoods were part of his group."

"The Lightwoods are the heads of the Institute," Mark added, "They don't seem like bad people."

"Everyone seems like good people when they want to," Raphael spat, "I doubt that they have learned their lesson."

"Okay," I interrupted what was sure to be an argument, "I will offer my services. If Mark brings me something of the Lightwoods', I will be able to tell you if they are a spy or not."

"And how would you do that?" the werewolf asked before Raphael had the chance.

"I'll hold a meeting. Tomorrow night, at Magnus's. Raphael and Luke can meet me there with Mark and they will find out the truth. You can take their word can't you?"

The wolf backed down and Raphael looked skeptical, "I did not know there was a spell that can provide you with that kind of information."

"There isn't one, I plan on using something else. Now be patient and let us all go home."

"Alright, stand down," Raphael instructed the other vampires, "I trust him. Magnus has helped me in the past, and he has good taste in friends."

"What about Clary?" the werewolf asked, "What do I tell Luke about her?"

"Tell him that Clary will be there tomorrow night. He can attempt to win her trust back then."

"How do you plan on figuring it out?" Abby whispered as we floated down from the roof of the Demort with my spell.

"You'll have to come along. You are my student and so you should know everything about me. You both already know that I am not just a Warlock, but also a Shadowhunter. Well, that came with extra abilities that my sister and I possessed. However, she lost an important portion of hers that I have kept."

"Powers beyond using runes?" Mark's brow raised.

"Yes, Tessa couldn't use runes, but I can. Also we both had this extra ability."

"What kind of ability?" Mark asked.

"Let's go get some coffee, and I'll start from the beginning," I sighed at the long story that was about to unfold.


	7. Chapter 7

**7**

 **"When it's three o'clock in New York, it's still 1938 in London." ~Bette Midler**

 **London, May 1878**

 **Jeff's Point of View**

The London air was thick with soot as the steam ship's horn bellowed loudly behind me. I had never left the United States before now, but I received a letter calling for me to come here for work. It was for a company owned by Mortmain, one of the biggest tycoons of the time. I felt a steady drizzle begin to coat my jacket with droplets and form puddles on the ground ahead. I grabbed my suitcase and bustled through the crowded wharf toward the busy street. I accidentally bumped a young man with pitch black hair.

"I'm so sorry," my eyes caught his, and for a brief moment I thought I saw the eyes of a cat, but they looked normal. He paused for a moment as if he was surprised that I would apologize.

"Oh, no need to apologize," he looked me up and down as his dark hair dripped from the rain, "You just arrived?" He gestured to my suitcase.

"Yes, I'm here for work," I smiled, "They offered to get me here and pay my housing."

His eyebrows raised, "Well that is certainly kind of them. Not many employers would do that. You must be impressive."

I felt my cheeks heat up, "I guess so, but I don't know who I'm looking for. He said that a couple of sisters would be picking me up. I think they were, the Dark Sisters."

His eyes widened in shock, but it quickly dissipated, "The Dark Sisters? Are you certain?"

I dug through my pocket and pulled out the envelope with my correspondence. I read the letter aloud.

 _Dear Mr. Jenni,_

 _I am writing to extend to you my warmest welcome. We were made aware of you by a close friend, and they gave only the highest recommendations for your skills and abilities. Enclosed with this letter should be one ticket for the steam ship to London. I will have my closest of allies, The Dark Sisters. You will know them by their black carriage with the image of two snakes in an ouroboros emblazoned on the side._

 _They will see you to your place and assure that you are properly cared for._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Axel Mortmain_

 _Mortmain Industries_

"Do you know them?" I asked upon finishing the letter.

"I know of them," he frowned, "They are not good company to keep." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card. "This is my information. Give me a call if you have any problems."

"Oh, thank you," I took the card and read, "Magnus Bane, Assistant. Assistant of what?"

"I do many things," he replied, "I don't tie myself to just one. Sometimes I am a Private Investigator. Other times I tend bar for my parties. Right now I am watching the house of my friend while she is out."

"I see, it must be nice to be your own boss and do such a large variety of things."

"Yes, but please be careful. I'm sure you will find out that London is one city to some and completely different to others."

"Mr. Jenni!" I heard a deep feminine voice call out and turned to find the source.

"I better get going," I looked back and he was gone. The rain began to fall heavier now, so I hurried toward a black carriage where I believe the voice came from. There was an extremely pale man with a top hat sitting in the driver seat. His face was stern and his eyes were fixated forward, almost bulging from his head. The side of the carriage had an image of two snakes eating each other's tails, the ouroboros. The door to the carriage flung open to reveal a tall thin woman with nearly colorless hair. Her clothing and gloves were the exact opposite and bursting with color, nearly blinding me after the dreary gray clouds.

"Mr. Jenni!" Her voice was rather deep for a lady and had a slight raspiness like someone that had smoked for too many years, "Where have you been? It is dreadful out here and you have kept us waiting."

"I'm so sorry," I bowed my head slightly, "I haven't been here before, so I wasn't sure where to go until you called out for me."

"Alright, alright, come along," she rushed me into the carriage and slammed the door, signalling for the driver to take off. Once inside I met the other woman that was a short and plump woman, with small, pale, deep-set eyes. "I'm Mrs. Dark, and this is my sister Mrs. Black," the woman that greeted me explained, "We are close friends of Mr. Mortmain, and are delighted to have you staying with us."

"Most delighted," Mrs. Black grinned, "You look lovely. I am sorry about the weather greeting you like this."

"It's quite alright, none of us can change the weather," I chuckled, "Thank you for having me. I'm very excited to meet Mr. Mortmain."

"Yes, yes, I'm sure you are," Mrs. Dark nodded, "You'll meet him in due time."

"You must be parched," Mrs. Black looked to me, "Here." She passed me a bottle of water which I gladly accepted. I took a sip, and then drank several gulps as the cool water was refreshing. The last thing I remembered was their evil smirks as my eyelids drooped shut and the carriage faded into darkness.

I awoke in a small room that had stone walls. The air was chilling and the thin sheet on the bed I was on was hardly enough to keep warm. There was a small window that had thick iron bars blocking it, and a wooden door that, upon a twist of the knob, appeared to be locked from the outside. I banged heavily on the door, but there was no reply, "HELLO! IS ANYONE OUT THERE!" I called out, but only my echoes answered. I took a few paces back until my back was against the wall. I ran towards the door and rammed it with all of my might. It shuddered, but remained standing causing my entire right side to ache. I went back to the wall and tried again, but the door remained intact without the slightest crack. I continued until my shoulder hurt too much, certain to bruise.

I sat down on the bed and was greeted with a loud creaking of springs. There was a knock at the door and a young woman entered wearing a maid outfit. She was rather pale and had no memorable features other than her eyes seemed to almost pop out of her head. Her voice was cold and monotone, "The Sisters would like to see you in the basement. Please follow me." She made her way out of the room and lead me down a maze of hallways lined with doors like my room. We came to a door that consisted of several wooden panels. There was a large steel handle that looked heavy, and made a squeaking sound when lifted. The door hinges screeched as it slowly opened while she pushed it. The room was rather dark with only candles hanging from wrought iron holsters lighting it. Between the flickering flames I could see the Dark Sisters sitting upon two chairs.

"Why hello Mr. Jenni," Mrs. Dark announced as I entered the room, "I hope that you had a nice rest."

"I don't believe that I mentioned needing a rest, and my room locks from the outside, but I am certain you already know."

"But of course," Mrs. Black grinned, "We wouldn't want you to get hurt."

"I survived the ship ride over here. I think I can survive London."

"Oh no no," Mrs. Dark shook her head, "You don't even know the half of what is out there."

"I'm sure it can't be scarier than New York."

"But you don't even know who you are," Mrs. Black argued, "You don't know where you come from."

"Umm, I'm from New York," I told her, puzzled, "I was living with my Aunt there for a while, but she grew very ill. I tried to get various jobs to upkeep the payment on our house, but it wasn't easy. Then I got the letter from Mortmain and I came out here for work."

"Oh yes," Mrs. Dark twiddled her fingers, "But what about your parentage?"

"They both died when I was young. My mother grew ill just a year after my birth, and my father just after that. I don't see why you need to know all of this."

"Because you don't know everything," Mrs. Black began, "You see, you are special, and you have a special set of skills."

"I don't know about that. I helped my aunt build a fence once, but that is likely the extent of my skills. Other than my apparent knack for finding trouble."

"We aren't trouble," Mrs. Dark looked offended, "We are here to help you develop your skills. That is what Mortmain wants."

"Mortmain is behind this?" I glared, "I was supposed to be here for work."

"You are," Mrs. Black answered, "You are almost unique with your skills. If we hone them, you could be very powerful."

"Powerful?"

"Not more powerful than us," Mrs. Dark looked to her sister, "But powerful."

"Explain yourselves. I have no skills to speak of."

"Yes you do," Mrs Black got up and scuffled over to me. She opened my hand and placed a lump of light brown hair into it. She closed my hand around the hair, "Can you feel it?"

"All I feel is hair," I felt a chill crawl up my spine, "It is really gross."

She frowned and striked me across the face with her gloved hand. For a woman of her age she was surprisingly strong as my face stung from the force.

"Excuse me," I felt my blood begin to boil, "Why did you just slap me."

"You need to focus and quit denying your powers," she turned and took her seat, "You will never develop them if you don't let them out."

"I TOLD YOU I DON'T HAVE POWERS!" I shouted and threw the hair at the ground.

"You definitely do," Mrs. Dark was stern, "You need to focus and try to feel them while holding that lock of hair."

"And why should I do any of this?" I spat, "Why should I help you or Mortmain after being kidnapped?"

"For your sister of course," Mrs. Black grinned evilly, "You wouldn't want us to hurt her, would you?"

"I don't have a sister."

"You do, a twin," Mrs. Dark snapped and a spark hit my forehead like a bit of static.

My mind was flooded with images. It started with a bright light, then a room with a bench. There was a woman holding a baby girl and bringing it over to the lady that was on the bench. Upon a closer look, the lady was my mother. Another woman entered the room carrying another baby, but this was a boy. In the corner of the room was my dad with another boy that had to be no older than three.

New York, 2007

"That's really dark," Mark interrupted my recounting, "You were torchered? How old were you?"

"Let's see," I scratched my head, "I think I had just turned 16."

"Only 16?" Abby's jaw dropped, "How did you survive?"

"A lot of resolve," I looked out the window of the coffee shop and got lost in the stars, "It wasn't easy and I don't particularly like revisiting my past. It was rather tragic. Perhaps one day I'll tell the rest of my story, but not tonight." Mark frowned at me, but I gave an awkward smile back to him. "It is okay, I'll be alright, and you will find out what the Dark Sisters pulled out of me. I do have powers, ones that I didn't know at that time, but they have proven useful time and again."

"So, all you need is something that belongs to the Lightwoods? Should it be Maryse or Robert?"

"Probably Maryse," I thought carefully, "Back in the day she always seemed to make the major decisions. I think she would provide the most valuable information." I stood from my seat and lead us out to the alleyway where I summoned three portals in spiraling pools of green, blue, and yellow. "That one will lead to the Institute, that to your place," I gestured to the center one and then the one on the right, "The left most will bring me back to Magnus's."

"Will you be okay?" Mark grabbed my hand, "Do you want me to go with you?"

"I will be alright, the portal is already up. One step through and I will be in Magnus's entryway."

"I'll let you two be," Abby backed towards her portal, "See ya tomorrow." She vanished into the glow and the portal closed behind her.

It was then that Mark pulled me in and gave me the gentlest kiss. It was soft and quick as he pulled away flushed. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright," I pulled him in this time and returned the kiss with a little more passion and a slight spark as we parted. "Be careful getting the item that belongs to Maryse. Don't let anyone know why you need it. Maryse and Robert know what I can do and they won't let it be used against them."

"Alright," Mark smiled, "You can count on me." He retreated through the portal and I smiled as it closed.

"Well, well, look who it is," a deep voice interrupted my happiness as I turned to see who wandered into the alley.


	8. Chapter 8

**8**

 **"When angels go bad they are worse than anyone else. Remember Lucifer used to be an angel." ~ Neil Gaiman, Neverwhere**

"I should have known you would find me," I shot a glare at the man that stood a few feet from me. His triangular face was hard as stone and his pointed chin resembled a carving of marble from the Roman era. His hair was so fair that it was nearly white in contrast to his pitch black eyes. The tight leather jacket accentuated his muscular build which only served to intimidate those who were weaker, "Valentine Morgenstern."

"Yes, no one can hide from me. It is only a matter of when I want to find you."

"Why now then? Why do you need me?" I backed towards my portal and flicked my wrist slightly.

"You know why I need you. Your ability is useful, and I have a use for it."

"I don't take payment for my services."

"Who said anything about payment?" He grinned maniacally and I noticed dark figures emerge next to him. Two Ravener demons that had slimy, long, scaled, black bodies, long black tongues, multiple legs and claws, and an insectile cluster of eyes set dead center on top of its long domed skull.

I raised my hands and sparks flew towards the demons. "Don't underestimate me Mr. Morgenstern." I took another step towards the portal.

"It is you that should not underestimate me," he laughed as I watched his skin peel away. I was now looking at a young boy with blue hair. He appeared to be in his teens and looked like a character from an Anime.

I realized too late and turned just in time to see a glowing blade pierce my abdomen. A dark red liquid stained my shirt as a pain and burning sensation spread throughout my body. The true Valentine Morgenstern towered above me now as I hunched over in pain, blood dripping down onto the pavement.

"Like he said, I have no intention of paying you," he kicked me right where my blood was draining and I howled in pain, "Don't worry, you aren't going to die… yet."

I used my magic to calm the bleeding as Valentine knelt down, hoisted me over his shoulder, and turned to leave the alley. My portal faded as my energy drained and my eyelids fell after being flushed with a flash of light.

 **Moments Ago**

 **Magnus's Point of View**

I rummaged through my cupboards looking for coffee grounds before surrendering and conjuring up an order slip for the nearby coffee shop. It was then that a cracking sound came from the entryway and a bit of napkin flew to my hand. It burst into flame and a scorch mark in an ancient Warlock language appeared in my palm. It read, 'Help, Alley, Bad Owl, Him, Jeff.' I felt a chill down my spine as I realized what the short words meant. I reached into a drawer and grabbed a small stone. Tossing it into the air it vanished with a cloud of smoke. I extended my hands and the kitchen filled with light that faded into darkness. My nostrils were flooded with the smell of iron, sewage, and decay. I took in my surroundings quickly, snapped my fingers and sent a dumpster flying at the Ravener demons. A car alarm could be heard where the dumpster and demons landed. I had caught the attention of the only two figures left in the alley.

"Magnus Bane," Valentine's glare was filled with venom, "So he sent the message to you."

"Yes, he is my friend, and I'm afraid that he doesn't want to go with you," I raised my hand and Valentine flew into the nearby wall Jeff falling from his shoulder and hitting the ground.

Valentine collected himself, pulling out his blade and bringing it to a glow. "You Downworld scum shouldn't even exist."

"Well, this scum seems to have bested you," I smiled at him, "Also, any Shadowhunter with respect would not work with demons." I shot a look at the boy with blue hair.

"You are outnumbered," Valentine approached me and the demon boy also had a sword, "You won't win."

"Who said he was alone?" a familiar voice called out from the rooftop. An arrow flew down and buried itself into the chest of the blue haired demon, another went through his right leg, a third through his left arm. He screeched in pain and Mark jumped from the roof crossbow pointed at Valentine, a dark rune blazed his neck.

"Who are you?" Valentine gritted his teeth.

"I'm his boyfriend," Mark gestured to Jeff on the ground, "And if you are the one that did that to him, then you are as good as dead." An arrow flew from the crossbow and soar towards Valentine's head. It burst into flame inches from his face and he laughed.

"You have a Warlock with you?" I questioned, "I can't imagine what Warlock would stoop so low, but apparently you don't think we are all scum."

"I may let you live today, but it won't be for long," he glared at Mark, "You are as good as them. You aren't a Shadowhunter." He vanished in a burst of black flames as well as the demon boy. Mark ran to Jeff and turned him upward.

"Jeff, please open your eyes," he begged, voice cracking.

I knelt down next to him, "He's okay, he's still alive. He used his last bit of magic to heal his wound slightly. It was created with a Seraph blade though, so magic can't heal it completely."

"But I can!" Mark moved quickly, tearing open Jeffs shirt and placing the tip of his Stele just above the wound. Black marks flowed out of the tip as his hand moved like that of a professional painter. The symbol resembled the number three turning into a lowercase 'h' with the vertical line of the 'h' going through the center of the three. The rune glowed brightly as the wound slowly began to heal. Mark's graceful hands weren't done yet as his Stele moved above Jeff's heart. The symbol that flowed out was a circle with a lowercase 'h' going through it. The left and right sides of the circle also had little lines coming out of it.

I placed my hand on Jeff's forehead and began to syphon some of my magic to him.

"I knew I shouldn't have left," a tear dropped from Mark's eye, "He was attacked just the other day and we knew that Valentine was in town."

"There was no way you could know that he was going to be attacked at this moment. He was almost to my place and I have wards up protecting it from Valentine."

"I should have seen him off before returning to the Institute."

"You can beat yourself up the rest of the night, but at least you were here now. If you didn't show I don't know if my magic could have saved him."

"Thank you," Mark looked up to me and wiped his eyes, "I wouldn't have been here if you hadn't summoned me."

"I gave you the choice. The stone would only portal you to a place that you really wanted to be."

Mark smiled, "So he is going to be okay?"

"Yes, but he needs rest," I opened a portal in the side of the coffee shop, "You are welcome to join us."

Mark and I hoisted Jeff between us and carried him through the portal to my apartment, placing him on the bed in the guest room. I snapped my fingers making a pair of black pajamas appear, perfectly folded on the bed. "Those should fit you nicely. Restroom is down the hall and the Chairman is around here somewhere. He probably won't like you, but he doesn't like anyone so don't take it the wrong way."

"Thank you."

I just waved him off and retreated to my room finally letting my exhaustion hit me. It had been too long since I last fought this thoroughly, but I knew there would be more to come. Collapsing on my bed I drifted off to sleep.

 **Jeff's Point of View**

"Mr. Jenni," the voice of my nightmares rang through my head as I awoke in the small dank dungeon of the Dark Sisters' house, "You do want to keep your sister safe don't you?" Mrs. Black was scowling at me with her piercing black eyes.

"How am I supposed to believe that you have my sister? Or that these aren't just false memories that you are trying to plant false memories inside my head."

"I suppose you don't know, but do you really want to risk her safety?" Mrs. Dark toyed her fingers.

"Alright, what do you want me to do?"

"Take this," Mrs. Black shoved a lock of hair with a small pink ribbon, "You are going to focus on the hair. Try to pull something out of it."

I turned the hair over in my hand a few times. It felt very dry, almost frail. I closed my eyes and focused on the hair. The silky-ness of the ribbon. The chestnut hue. Upon doing so I felt a sharp pain in my right side more towards my back. I felt my bones tighten and shrink down, my hair growing rapidly from my head. A scream rising from my throat and my eyes opened.

Upon my chest was a small cat with short legs and a fluffy, round body. His eyes were a bright blue and his breath smelt of fish as it wafted towards my face. His small paw batted my nose as I gave him a long pet from the top of his head to the tip of his tail. Satisfied with the amount of attention he has received, he trotted out of the room as I rolled over to see Mark lying next to me. I rubbed my eyes thoroughly, causing a strand of cat hair to burn my retina. I decided to dismiss myself to the restroom to rinse the intrusion from my eye.

Magnus's guest bathroom was a royal purple with gold accents for the faucets and knobs. The shower curtain was a white silk with light blue orchids that appeared to be hand stitched. Once my eyes recovered I noticed that my shirt was missing, and I had a scar on my abdomen. The memories of last night flooded back as I felt the Seraph blade piercing through me. Magnus must have received my fire message, but why was Mark here?

I exited the restroom and walked to the kitchen where Magnus was shuffling through his cupboards. "Good morning," I greeted him causing him to startle as he turned to me.

"I didn't expect you to be up for at least a few more days," Magnus walked over and inspected my scar. "Those runes that he used must have been extremely powerful."

"Runes?"

"Yes, as I am certain you noticed, I summoned Mark when I received your message. I may be powerful, but taking on Valentine by myself would not be wise."

"But you put him in danger, what if you both got hurt?"

"Love is a very powerful magic," Magnus grinned cheekily, "I think he loves you."

"No, it is too soon for that," I shook my head, "He can't be…"

"Well, he called you his boyfriend last night," Magnus continued to grin as I flushed a bright red.

"No, you must have misheard."

"Based on your reaction I think that you may love him too."

"Magnus," I groaned, "Stop edging me on. You know how quickly and hard I fall in love with people."

"Yes, but this is the first time that I think you found a good one," he winked before returning to his rummaging, "Now, I don't know why I constantly act like I am going to make my own coffee." He turned to the counter and summoned an order slip, "Would you like something?"

"I'll take whatever form of a Caramel Frappuccino that they have," I sat at one of the bar stools, "What should we do Magnus? You and I know how dangerous Valentine can be. The Clave won't do anything about him."

"We can't act on our own or else the Clave will act against us. I wouldn't do well in the Spiral Labyrinth."

"Alright, I am going to Alicante."

Magnus stopped filling out the order form for the coffee. "You are what?"

"Consul Malachi wanted to meet with me, and I shall fulfill that request."

"I do not think that is a good idea. I do not like him."

"I can take care of myself Magnus. Don't forget that I am a Shadowhunter. They may not want to believe it, but I can cary marks and ignite a Seraph blade."

"You know what the Clave thinks of people that are different," Magnus snapped the coffee order off to the shop.

"Yes, but what else can we do. I saw Valentine with my own eyes. They can't reject that. I'll testify by the Mortal Sword."

"Remind me again why we are friends?" Magnus looked at me scrupulously.

"Because I keep things exciting and live on the edge?" I laughed.

"Well, I suppose you do," Magnus snapped and our coffees appeared. He had a knack of knowing exactly how long it would take.

"I'll be leaving tonight, after my meeting with the Downworlders."

"A meeting with the Downworlders? Who? Why did you not tell me?"

"Umm because I just came up with it last night before I was attacked."

"Did you inform the Seelie Queen? She won't want to be left out of any meetings."

"No I did not, like I said, a bit preoccupied Magnus."

"Alright," Magnus looked through a drawer and removed a large maple leaf that he set ablaze in the palm of his hand, "It will be tonight, at my place. Inform whoever else you are expecting to meet us here. We already have the wards up against Valentine here."

"Okay," I grabbed a four sticky notes from the same drawer that Magnus pulled the leaves from and made one out to Raphael, Luke, Abby, and the other to Clary. They burst into smoke as I sent them off to their recipients.

"Why are you inviting Clary?"

"Because we were attacked by wolves and vampires while retrieving her friend, and in order to ease them off I had to tell them that we could all meet and have a formal discussion."

"What is to be discussed?"

"I am using my power to reveal if the Lightwoods are working with Valentine."

"What?!" Magnus's jaw dropped slightly, "You cannot do that to the Heads of the Institute."

"They will never know Magnus, and we need to know where their loyalty lies. We both know about their past."

"Yes, but they are the authority in this area. We can't be doing secret investigations of their character."

"No one will know Magnus. Don't worry about it."

"I will blame you if we get caught," Magnus sipped from his coffee, "You are not getting me exiled."

"I will gladly take all of the blame. They can exile me to the Spiral Labyrinth."

"Exile?" Mark's voice interrupted us, "Who is being exiled?"

"Nobody," Magnus smiled, "Well, I can exile myself if you two want to be alone." He gave a sly wink before sipping more coffee. Mark and I both flushed with embarrassment.

"Don't worry. It is just that using my powers to investigate the Lightwoods isn't exactly 'by the book,' and could get me in trouble if they were to find out."

"I won't tell them."

"Of course not," Magnus sipped his coffee again, "But Clary might, or her little boyfriend Jace. He is parabatai to that cute boy."

"Alec? You like Alec?" Mark looked at him skeptically.

"He is cute, but Shadowhunters are trouble and tend to live very short lives," Magnus paused, "No offense of course. I'm sure you two will last forever."

"I think you should go for it Magnus," Mark winked, "You only live once, even if it is for a very long time."

Magnus waved him off, "Alright, that is enough Shadowhunter boy. Don't you have something to retrieve before the meeting tonight?"

"While you do that, I have something I need to do," I told Mark, "I can't go with you to the Institute anyways. It would be too suspicious. I'll be back before you know it."

"No, I'm not going to let you go somewhere on your own."

"He won't be alone," Magnus interjected, "Abby is going with him."

"She is?" Mark's eyebrows rose.

"She is," I nodded, unconvincingly, "I have an important training exercise for her."

"Alright," Mark pecked me on the cheek, "Please be safe."

"Of course," I pulled him into a tight embrace and proceeded to open a portal for him to get to the Institute. He gave me a final smile before dashing through.

"Where are you going?" Magnus crossed his arms and gave me an evil glare, "You are in no shape to go anywhere."

"I will be alright Magnus. I'm leaving New York, but I'll be back."

"You aren't going to Alicante are you?"

"See ya later Magnus," I raised my hand and summoned a portal, barely hearing Magnus's shouts of protest after me.


	9. Chapter 9

**9**

 **"There is nothing I would not do for those who are really my friends. I have no notion of loving people by halves, it is not my nature."**

 **~ Jane Austen, Northanger Abbey**

"Why are we here?" Abby asked as the salty breeze blew through our hair as we walked up the dirt path to a large church. It had multiple stories and stained glass windows depicting an angel rising from a lake baring a cup and sword in each hand that glistened in the sun.

"We are here because I think that there might be a war coming and we are going to need friends on our side," we reached the door where I banged the knocker before placing my hand upon it, "In the name of the Clave, I ask entry to this holy place. In the name of the Battle That Never Ends, I ask the use of your weapons. And in the name of the Angel Raziel I ask your blessings on my mission against the darkness." The doors opened loudly as they slid across the white marble flooring. Directly across from the entrance was a staircase that broke apart at the top, dividing the Institute into its East and West Wings.

We waited a few minutes, but no one arrived to greet us. "Hello!" I called up the stairs, "Amanda Earthstorm? Zachariah Silverhawk? Anyone?" A young man with slightly pointed ears, similar to that of the Fae met us as we began to journey up the stairs to search. He was dressed in black Shadowhunter gear with a black rune traced along his right upper arm.

"I'm sorry, we are in training," the boy greeted, "Can I help you?"

"Yes, I'm Jeffrey Wolfwright and this is Abby. We were hoping to speak with Amanda, Zach, Nate, and Emma if possible. We assisted them on a mission earlier this week, and I need some information to report back to the Lightwood's at the Institute in New York."

"Nice to meet you, I'm Mark Blackthorn," he politely shook our hands, "But, you came from the New York Institute? Why wouldn't you have just sent us a message?"

"I wanted to meet with them and discuss the matter in person. Also to found out if there is anything new on the Attacker and the Attackee."

"Alright," his tone seemed skeptical, "I'll have them meet you in the library. Please follow me." He lead us through the winding halls before we came to a set of large oak doors marked with runes and latin. Inside was a room lined with books. It wasn't the biggest Library I have seen, but rather small for an Institute. The books also seemed to be mostly Greek and Latin with a good portion dating from the Classical period. There was a sizable desk with a leather rolling chair in the center of the room. Beside it were two arm chairs covered with a red velvet-like material. Abby and I seated ourselves in the armchairs while Mark dismissed himself to get the others.

"You don't work for the Lightwood's," Abby gave me a look like a disappointed parent, "What if he was to call them and ask?"

"I highly doubt that he would go through the trouble. It is routine for Shadowhunters to write reports to reference in case any questions come up."

The doors opened and the four Shadowhunters entered in their black training gear.

"Hello," Emma smiled, "How are you?"

"Good, I just wanted to check how everything went with the Werewolf attack and Jordan?"

"You could have called or messaged about that," Amanda caught on, "You have something else to talk to us about. However, the woman that was attacked is named Cecelia. She did end up changing, so Jordan is watching after her and the other girl. The attacker's name is Jeri, and she was recently changed herself by a rogue wolf attack. We haven't caught who changed her."

"You are fast," I smiled, "I'm glad they seem to be doing alright, but I did have something else to inform you of. You all seemed like reasonable Shadowhunters that I can trust with sensitive information." I took a deep breath, "Anyways, Valentine Morgenstern is back. He attacked me twice, once in person and both times with demons. He wants my ability to help with something, but I escaped thanks to Mark and Magnus Bane. I wanted to let you know before I go to the Consul."

"You can't be serious," Zach's brow furrowed, "Valentine is working with demons? Doesn't he want them exterminated?"

"I suppose, unless they have a use for him."

"The Clave has to do something," Nate argued, "They can't let him go unchecked or else our relationship with the Downworlders will quickly deteriorate."

"Yeah, because the Clave is so good at upkeeping their relationships with the Downworlders," Abby's sarcasm was heavy.

"We'll put in for a transfer to New York," Zach replied, "We would like to stand with the right side, and if the Clave wants to act slowly, we want to be in a position where we can help."

"Really? You would want to do that on my word alone? I don't have pictures or proof."

"That's alright," Emma nodded, "You helped us with the Werewolf attack and that proved that you can be trusted."

"Thank you," I shook their hands, "We have one more stop to make before we head back to New York. If you get your things in order, you are welcome to come with."

"Alright, we will be ready," Amanda agreed and we parted ways in the entryway.

"One more stop?" Abby questioned, "Where would that be?"

"With Mr. Jordan Kyle. I wanted to speak with him as well about something private."

"What do you mean?"

"You'll find out in time," I brushed off her question, "I promise."

"Shouldn't we have asked them for his address? How are we going to find him."

"This is the city that I was willing to be the High Warlock of. I know pretty much everything that goes on here," once we exited the grounds of the Institute I created a portal, "Not much gets by me."

We stepped through and immediately emerged in an alley off of a bustling street. The cars rushed past and people were hurrying to and fro on their phones. No one took notice of the people that appeared with a snapping and emerged from an alley.

"I still say it is creepy that you know so much," Abby shuddered as we walked up the steps of an apartment building.

"I'll show you the spells later. They are a little complicated, but you can always start at a smaller scale." We walked up a few flights of stairs before coming to the door that I knocked on.

Jordan answered the door he had dark blue jeans on and a shirt for a band called the Lizard Wizards. His dark hair tumbled over his forehead and down his neck in curls. "Hello?" he seemed puzzled, "You two were from the other night right?"

"Yes, I wanted to talk to you about something important. It involves the Praetor."

"Come on in," he stepped aside and lead us to a dining room that held a square table and four chairs. I heard a door open somewhere and was surprised by a girl that came into the room to see what was going on. She had dark red hair in a pixie cut, and hazel eyes. She wore a short sleeve shirt with a wolf that was howling at a full moon. Her jeans were light and covered in tears, "Jeri, this is Jeff and Abby. They are the Warlocks that helped stop you from killing Cecelia." Her face fell at the mention of the incident.

"I'm sorry," her tone was sincere, "I thank you for stopping me."

"It's alright, we are here to help," I smiled.

"Just don't go trying it again," Abby scolded jokingly.

"Cecelia, why don't you come meet our guests?" Jordan called out, and a door opened down the hall.

The blonde woman from the alley that Jeri attacked entered the dining room. Her hair was straight and fell just past her shoulders. She wore a black blouse with a circular silver clasp decorating the center of the neckline, and a black pair of jeans.

"Cecelia, this is Jeff and Abby. They helped the other night with the incident. You both are still here today because of these two."

"Thank you," Cecelia smiled.

"I'm sorry that we couldn't do more," I apologized.

"Oh no, I always knew things weren't as they appeared. Now I am a part of it."

"We found out that Cecelia has the Sight," Jordan explained, "So, as a human, she always caught glimpses of the Shadow World, but was never truly a part of it until now."

"What are the chances that someone with the Sight would be the victim?" Abby looked to me, "Does that happen often?"

"Actually, more often than you think. People with the Sight tend to be drawn to the Shadow World. That is why so many of them get involved in gambling halls with Warlocks or build up these strange societies that almost worship demons."

"So, what did you wish to talk about?" Jordan asked.

"I wanted you to pass on a message for me to the Praetor about Valentine Morgenstern."

Jordan visibly shuddered at the mention of Valentine, "I thought he was dead."

"He is not dead," I shook my head, "I saw him in New York. He wants to destroy all Downworlders, and the more people I can get to stop him the better."

"Well we can't let him do that," it was Cecelia that spoke up, "That would be thousands of people right?"

"Some wouldn't classify us as people," Jordan clenched his fists under the table, "Valentine would be one of those people. He wanted Shadowhunters to kill all Downworlders in the past, but some of the people in his group turned on him. They foiled his plan, and many of his members were punished"

"That sounds a lot like what happened with Hitler and WWII," Jeri noted, "Well, I don't recall if he was betrayed."

"Yes, it is funny how Shadowhunters repeat Mundane history," Jordan laughed, "They are so concerned with being the best, but they same to reflect the worst in people at times. I will pass along your message, and the three of us will join you in New York in order to keep informed on the situation. Besides, I have a situation that I have been researching, and I think a lead might be in New York."

"Really, you want to go to York?" I looked at him scrupulously.

"100%," Jordan smiled, "Cecelia, Jeri, go get your things together so that we can get going. I don't want to keep them waiting. Give us 10 minutes, and we should be ready to go."

Everyone rushed to their rooms, leaving Abby and I sitting at the table.

"Where they all going to stay?" Abby asked curiously.

"Well, all Shadowhunters are welcome at the Institute. They have hundreds of bedrooms in case they ever need to take in guests. As for Jordan, Cecelia, and Jeri, the Praetor typically has funds set aside and Jordan can use that to acquire housing."

"That is amazing! Why don't warlocks have anything like that? I want to just have emergency funds available when I need them."

"It isn't really like that. The Praetor is a long-established organization, kind of similar to anonymous support groups in the Mundane world. They are there to help the people in need, and their funding can't be spent frivolously."

"I know," Abby put her hands behind her head, "It's just really cool that something like that exists."

"You know, I was around when it first was founded. Magnus was friends with Woolsey Scott back in London. He was the werewolf that ended up going on to found the Praetor."

"I hope that I get to be a part of something big," Abby looked upward, "Something that people will remember me for."

"You never know, you just might. Especially considering that we might have a war on our hands. You never know what is going to happen during times of distress."

Jordan returned to the room he is pulling a large suitcase behind him, and was followed by Cecelia and Jeri, each carrying a medium size duffel bag. "We are ready," he announced.

"All right, we just have to stop by and pick up the Shadowhunters from the Institute," I raised my hand to begin to or open the portal.

"Shadowhunters? We are picking up Shadowhunters?" Jordan was puzzled.

"Yes, the Shadowhunters from the other night want to go with to New York. It'll help to have people that believe in me in the Institute when I need to convince Robert and Maryse that Valentine is actually back." I finished opening the portal and a blue shimmering swirl of light opened in the wall across from the entryway. One by one we stepped through, leaving the apartment abandoned behind us.


	10. Chapter 10

**10** " **Everyone wears come in all different shapes and only problem with trying one on is that it fits. How easily we fall into the trap that we don't have to be who we really easily we convince ourselves that we need to cover up what we were born to 's a tragedy that fear keeps us from our 's hell when the person you were created to be is covered up by some cheap imposter"** **~ Rachel Van Dyken, Toxic**

We arrived outside of the New York Institute with the LA Shadowhunters in tow. The structure itself was grander than the LA Institute. It was reminiscent of a gothic cathedral with grandiose windows and peaked towers. We were greeted in the front by two older Shadowhunters. The woman had blue eyes and black hair, and her resemblance to Isabelle was uncanny. Next to her was a man with slightly tanned skin. His hair was also black which nearly matched his eyes which were a deep blue.

"Maryse, Robert, lovely to see you both again," I smiled candidly, "I haven't seen you in at least a decade."

Their faces were stern, but Maryse was the first to speak, "Yes, it is good to see you as well Jeffrey. Our children said you were living in town. What brought you back to LA?"

"Oh, just to visit some old friends. Malcolm needed my help a little while back, and I met all of these lovely people," I gestured to everyone, "They decided to put in for a transfer to New York Institute, and Jordan said that he has some Praetor business in town that he needs to take care of."

"Well, we appreciate you bringing them here," Robert shook Zach's hand, "It will be great to have some extra help since demon sightings appear to be on the rise."

"I wonder why that could be," I said with a slightly sarcastic tone to gauge if they had any idea that Valentine was in New York, but it fell flat.

"As for the Praetor, I wasn't aware that anything of significance happened for us to need a member in the city," Maryse looked over to Jordan, Jeri, and Cecelia.

"Nothing has," Jordan assured her, "These two were recently turned in LA, and we thought it would be best to take them to a new environment in order to help with any possible PTSD. Also, Lucian Graymark is one of the best pack leaders in North America. We thought it would be beneficial to have these two under his wings."

"Yes, Lucian has been good," there was something in Maryse's eyes, a sadness perhaps, "I'm sure he will do well."

"Well, we should probably get settled," Amanda interrupted an awkward silence, "We would love it if you could show us around your Institute."

Maryse smiled and nodded as she led them inside followed by Robert as he shot a glance behind him through the closing door.

"You're quick on your feet," I looked at Jordan, "I think she believed it."

"Well, it is half true, but I do have other business here."

"Okay, I'll leave your housing to you. I have a Downworlder Meeting to attend."

"Be careful," Jordan gave me a shy pat on the back, "Gatherings of high up Downworlders is sure to gather Valentine's attention."

"Thank you," I shook Jordan's hand and Abby and I waved them off.

"So, how do you know the Lightwoods?" Abby asked after they were out of sight.

"Come with me," I pulled her around the corner and sent Mark a message that we were out front if he and Clary are ready. "So, the Lightwoods were part of Valentine's circle. They were some of his best friends, and that is why most of Downworld doesn't trust them to fight against him."

"But you are going to prove that they aren't working with him?"

"Yes, I suppose that I am, but it isn't going to be easy for me. It takes a lot of my strength in order to do what I'm going to have to do, and with Valentine on the loose I don't know if I really have the strength to spare."

"Well, I can help. I don't necessarily know the most advanced spells, but I can try my best to help protect you and the rest of the city."

"I think that Magnus can handle protecting the city, he is a High Warlock of New York. He is quite a bit older than me, and I don't think that there is much that he can't do."

We heard the loud creaking of the iron gate, and decide to come back around the corner to see who was exiting the Institute. Mark had somehow managed to get Clary away from Jace, or perhaps more likely get Jace away from Clary, and they were walking towards us.

"Were you able to get something?" I asked Mark as we met in the middle.

"Yes," Mark reached into his pocket and pulled out a silk scarf that was a mixture of gray, blue, and pink, "I got this from her closet. I've seen her wear a few times, and it wouldn't be suspicious if it's missing since she might just think that Isabelle borrowed it.

"Very smart," I smiled cheekily.

"I'm not sure that I'm ready to see Luke," Clary was nervous, "He seemed so stern over the phone, and it was like he didn't want to see me."

"Clary," I gave her the most sincere look I could, "I don't know Luke that well, but from what I knew of him and your mother during the Uprising, he really cares for your mother and most likely you. I'm certain that he has his reasons for why he said what he did, and he'll probably explain those reasons to you tonight."

"Thank you," she seemed to be a little happier.

"Well, we better get to Magnus's," Abby interjected, "it is getting late and I don't know if he could keep the other Downworlders entertained if we are late." She held up her hand and a shimmering portal appeared in the brick wall separating the Institute's courtyard from the streets of New York.

We all stepped through and appeared in the hallway in front of Magnus's apartment.

"Good job," I congratulated Abby, "Portals aren't easy especially considering Magnus has wards up to protect from Valentine."

We knocked on the door, and were promptly greeted by Magnus. He wore a black button up shirt with long sleeves that were covered in spirals of purple and blue. His hair stood up perfectly without a single strand out of place.

"Your late," he frowned, but let us in. Raphael was sitting in a large armchair while another man with brown hair that seemed to sit in a pile on top of his head, and wore red and black flannel shirt.

"Luke, how you been?" I walked over and shook his hand and he gave me a friendly smile.

"I've been all right, other than Jocelyn being abducted, Valentine's men coming to me for answers…" His eyes caught Clary's and his face dropped, "I am so sorry Clary. I know I must've hurt you with what I said over the phone, but Valentines men were at my bookshop when you called. I couldn't risk you coming to see me when they are poking their nose around."

Clary crossed her arms, "I don't need your protection. You and my mom thinking that is what got us into this mess in the first place. Erasing my memories, and treating me like a child…"

"I didn't want her to do those things," Luke shook his head, "She was only doing what she thought was best, but I tried telling her that the truth was the right thing to do."

"This is all lovely," Raphael interrupted, "But we are here to find out about the Lightwoods. Not to rejoice in a family reunion."

Luke shot him a sharp glare, but Magnus interrupted, "Raphael, how is everything at the Hotel Dumort? How is Camille treating you?"

"Camille is gone," Raphael's brow furrowed, "I am in charge in her stead."

"Well, that's good," Magnus sipped from a glass of wine he grabbed off of the counter, "Camille was never good at meetings." He turned to Mark and me, "Now, why don't you go ahead and show Raphael and Luke what you can do."

Mark handed me the scarf and I held it gently in my hands. I closed my eyes and tried to pull whatever I could from it. I felt my hands tighten around the fabric as I caught a faint glimmer of memory. I utilized my magic to pull it towards me, shrouding myself with its warmth as the change overwhelmed me. My scalp began to tingle as my hair began to grow rapidly. It fell just past my shoulders with a slight wave to it. My body became very tight and thin like wires. I felt composed, but there was a burning sensation behind my eyes. My heart ached as memories filled my mind. A man with short black hair walking away from me despite my pleas. Robert, looking very stern behind a desk as I yelled at him. My blood was boiling with anger, but he seemed unaffected. "I'm pregnant," I shouted just before being brought back to Magnus's living room with all eyes on me, and I felt a wetness on my cheeks as I wiped the tears away.

"How is that possible?" Raphael was the first to speak, turning to Magnus briefly.

"Well, you see, when a man and a woman love each other very much…" Magnus began.

"Not that," Luke contained a laugh, "I am sure he is referring to who or what we are looking at."

"I am a Warlock," I stated, but my voice was not my own. It was more feminine, but strong. The voice of Maryse Lightwood, "And I am a Shadowhunter. I have an ability that lets me transform into other people if I hold something that has some significance to them. If it has no significance then it takes a lot more of my energy. I am now, in every essence, Maryse Lightwood. I have access to her memories and her feelings up to the point of me transforming. Anything of significance I would know about."

"And Maryse is pregnant?" Luke raised his eyebrows, "I didn't know."

"No, she was pregnant," I corrected, "When I first transform I am often overwhelmed with their emotions and memories so things slip out. I don't want to talk about her personal life."

"Then let's get to the point," Raphael got up from his seat and approached me, but Mark drew his seraph blade. "I am not going to hurt him," Raphael glared, "What does she know about Valentine?"

"Not much," I closed my eyes and looked through Maryse's memories, trying to focus on Valentine, "There hasn't been anything since the Uprising. I'm not seeing any form of contact. No correspondence at all."

"There we have it," Magnus clapped his hands together loudly, capturing everyone's attention, "The Lightwoods are not involved with this."

"I don't know," Raphael went over to look out the window, "I don't trust Shadowhunters…"

"And who said you have to?" Clary interrupted, "I mean, you don't need the Shadowhunters to protect you. You are all extremely powerful."

"Clary," Luke got up from the couch, "Yes Downworlders are powerful, but the Shadowhunters are kind of like our police. Anything that we do could result in repercussions from them."

"Which is what I am going to stop," I assured, "I am going to speak to the Consul tomorrow to explain that Valentine is back, and try to get their help."

"You can't do that," Luke looked at Magnus and Mark, "Tell him that he can't go."

"Oh, I already nagged him about how horrible of an idea this is," Magnus sipped some more wine, "He doesn't listen to me." He gave Mark a wink.

"He is free to make his own decision," Mark reasoned, "And he won't be going alone. I am going with him."

"What?" I felt my jaw drop, "No you are not."

"Yes I am, and you can't stop me," he stuck his tongue out, "But can you go back to yourself? I prefer you over Maryse."

I closed my eyes again, and released my focus, letting the memories flow away. The burning returned behind my eyes as I felt a tear roll down my cheek.

"You're crying?"

"Sorry," I wiped the tear away and smiled, "She is more complicated than I thought. Don't be so hard on her okay."

"Umm, alright," Mark gave me an awkward look, "At least we know now that the Lightwoods are not involved with Valentine."

"Jeff," Clary had dismissed herself from talking with Luke to join us, "Could I ask you a favor?"

"Sure, what did you need?"

"If I brought you something of my mom's would you be able to find out where she is?"

"I'm sorry Clary, but it doesn't really work that way," I watched the glimmer of hope disappear from her eyes, "I would be able to access her memories, but not tell you her location or see through her eyes. I could tell you what happened to her, but I wouldn't need to transform to tell you that."

"Clary," Luke came over, "Your mom was abducted by Valentine. She was afraid that he might be back. That is why she wanted you both to go stay out at the ranch house. He sent his flunkies to me because something went wrong. They were trying to get information from me, so I had to convince them that Jocelyn and I had a fight and haven't spoke in years."

"What do you mean something went wrong?"

"I don't really know, but your mother is very smart Clary. She knows what she is doing, and if he wants something from her he isn't going to kill her."

"Not to mention his pride," Magnus added, "He is perhaps the most pride obsessed Shadowhunter I know. I wouldn't be surprised if he still loved her and wants her back."

She didn't seem happy, but Clary was a little more relieved.

"Alright, everyone should get going," Magnus snapped, creating three portals in the center of the room, "The one on the left will take you to the Institute, the center one will take you to the Jade Wolf, and the right one will be for the Hotel Dumort."

"I'll be here tomorrow morning," Mark's look was that of a stern parent, "Don't you dare leave without me."

"I wouldn't dream of it," we gave each other a tight embrace before he and Clary stepped through their portal.

"You need to be careful," Luke patted me on the back, "If the Consul doesn't like what you have to say it could end poorly."

"I think I will be okay," I smiled, "They won't want to hurt me because I'm useful."

"Everything is about usefulness with them," Raphael grimaced, "It has been nice knowing you, but I doubt that we will meet again." He stepped through the portal to the Dumort, and it vanished behind him.

"Raphael used to be kind when he was first turned. I guess the years have made him cold," Magnus frowned.

"You would know more than any of us," Luke shook Magnus's hand then turned to me, "Good luck." He departed as well, leaving Abby, Magnus, and myself.

"Is the Consul that bad?" Abby asked, "You shouldn't do anything that puts you in danger."

"He certainly isn't their worst one," Magnus went to pour more wine, "Definitely not the best either. Honestly, I haven't interacted with him much."

"Okay," Abby raised her hand and formed a portal, "Did you want me to go with you? Perhaps I can help reason with them or something?"

"No need, Mark will be with me. That should be enough."

She made for her portal, but stopped just before entering it to turn back and give me a hug, "See you soon." Her portal closed behind her.

"Well, I'm off to bed," I went over to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water, "I'll see you in the morning?"

"Yes, I'll see you off. Then I think I might ask that Lightwood boy out on a date," Magnus grinned.

"Oh really?" I laughed a little, "What are you going to do?"

"I haven't decided yet, and it all depends on if he accepts."

"Well then, I think you need more luck than me."

We both laughed as I retired to my room for some much needed rest.


	11. Chapter 11

**11**

" **In the kingdom of glass everything is transparent, and there is no place to hide a dark heart."**

 **~ Vera Nazarian, The Perpetual Calendar of Inspiration**

 _It was dark outside as we gathered in the Accords Hall. It was a room of all white, lined with marble. A large fountain in the shape of a mermaid stood in the middle. It was 1991 and time to sign the Ninth Accords. The Downworlder Representatives all seemed hesitant as we waited for the proceedings to begin. I especially kept my eye on Valentine who seemed to be grinning rather sharply from the sidelines. After negotiations were made the Accords were brought out to be signed. It was then that I saw the flash of black metal as Valentine pulled a sword. The doors behind me opened as a rush of Werewolves, Vampires, Faeries, and Warlocks filled the Hall, shedding blood from both sides._

I bolted upright in bed out of my nightmare. The sheets were dampened with sweat as I peeled myself away and drudged to the bathroom to shower. As I stepped out of the shower I was greeted by the fragrant aroma of coffee. I slipped a light blue v-neck over my head and made my way to the kitchen where Mark was sitting at the breakfast bar with Magnus, sipping coffee.

"Good morning," I smiled and Mark looked back at me, "You're here early."

"I wouldn't want your trying to sneak off without me," he laughed, "Also, Magnus asked me to come early. He had a few questions."

"Questions?" I raised my eyebrows, "Or was he sharing embarrassing stories?"

"As much as I love that idea, alas I did not share any stories," Magnus sipped his coffee, "But if you would like me to, I am sure I can think of something to share." He grinned slyly.

"No thank you, that was not an invitation. I do a good enough job embarrassing myself, I do not need assistance."

"Now," Magnus set his cup down and stood from his stool, "I expect you both to not take any unnecessary risks. Come back safely in one piece, and do not require me to recruit a search party. I have enough on my plate trying to ward the city from Valentine."

"Ward the city?" I raised my brow, "What do you mean?"

"While I am alive Valentine will neither be able to leave or enter my city. If he is here still he will not go to another city, and if he has left, I won't be allowing him back."

"Magnus, that is some serious magic," I was in disbelief, "You can't possibly hold off like this on your own. Perhaps I should stay to help."

"I am the High Warlock of Brooklyn," Magnus cracked his fingers, "I can handle keeping my city safe. If I need help I can contact Catarina. You need to go appease the Consul."

"Okay, but send for me if Valentine causes any more problems."

"Will do," Magnus held up his hand to form a glistening portal in the center of his living room, "That should take you just outside of Alicante. They don't really let people portal into the city."

"Thank you," Mark shook Magnus's hand, "Good luck today."

"You as well," Magnus smiled and ushered us through the portal sealing it shut behind us.

The living room was a blur behind us as we lurched forward into the land of Idris. We stood on a cobblestone street facing a city that resembled Venice and Rome. Surrounding it were large towers that glistened in the sunlight, like glass. There was a guard station set up near the entrance manned by a couple of Shadowhunters.

"Hello, Jeffrey Wolfwright and Mark Nighthunter here to meet with the Consul," I told them, showing my stele.

Their brows furrowed in surprise, "You're Jeff Wolfwright?" They looked me over, "The Warlock?"

"Sure, I'm also a Shadowhunter, but call me whatever you want."

"Alright, I'll take you to the Consul's quarters," the larger of the two men stepped out from their post, "Follow me."

We entered the city on a large path, passing two of the towers at the entrance. I felt an odd tingle through my body as we entered through the wards. We passed a large statue of an angel wielding a sword and holding a chalice in his left hand which appeared to be levitating. Finally, we crossed a river and I saw the Gard towering up ahead. It resembled a rather bland rendition of a fairy-tale palace with numerous towers, some cylindrical, others were rectangular. The gates of the Gard are tall and wrought from a combination of silver and cold iron covered in calligraphic interpretations of Marks. On either side are stone statues known colloquially as the Guardians, warrior-angels, holding a carved sword and standing above dying creatures meant to represent the demonic enemies of the Nephilim. It had been decades since I entered the Gard. Charlotte Branwell had been Consul at the time, and was a good friend of mine. I, unfortunately, did not keep up with her children much after she passed, but now I know of Clary and her mother. Mark was looking at me with a slightly puzzled look.

"Are you ready?" he asked, "Or perhaps I should ask if you are okay?"

"Ready for?" I paused and looked at the guard who seemed to be glaring at me.

"You are to enter and go meet with the Consul."

"Oh, right…" I paused, "Yes, very well, thank you for showing us. I have been to see the Consul before, so I am certain I can find my way."

The man's glare stabbed me a final time before he proceeded back to his post. Mark took my hand and looked into my eyes, "Are you okay, you kinda zoned out there."

"Yes, I was just reminiscing I suppose. It has been a while since I was last here, and it was in better circumstances."

"It will be okay," Mark smiled, "You haven't done anything wrong, and I am here."

"Yes, thank you," I gave his hand a squeeze as we walked through the gates and entered the Gard. The walls inside were carved with angelic runes that lit the windowless halls. There were no paintings or tapestries like there would be in the Institutes, just eloquently carved runes.

"Mr. Wolfwright," a sharp voice greeted us as we rounded the corner of the hall. A man stood at the end with a very angular face. His short blonde hair was slicked back and a dark black rune was visible on his neck, "Please, right this way."

Mark and I strode toward him confidently and slowed to a halt in front of him, "Malachi Dieudonné, lovely to see you." I managed to force a believable smile and shook his hand, "This is Mark Nighthunter of the New York Institute."

He nodded to Mark who bowed his head slightly, "Thank you for coming to meet with me. We haven't heard from you in ages, some even thought you to be dead."

"I'm sure that if you spoke to Tessa at the Spiral Labyrinth she would have told you that I was alive and well. I have kept in touch with her over the years."

"Of course, of course," Malachi lead us into his office and gestured for us to be seated, "We just thought you would be more involved in your heritage."

"My heritage?" I almost laughed, "So you thought I would get involved in Shadowhunter politics? What did you want me to be your next Inquisitor? I didn't realize you were so fond of me."

He frowned, "No, no, I just thought you would attend some of our meetings perhaps in your sister's stead."

"I'm sorry, but my sister and I haven't exactly been worshiped or appreciated by the Shadowhunters," I felt my blood begin to boil, "Mostly chastized and looked down upon as lesser beings. Malachi you are not going to fool me with your delusions of friendship. I know how Shadowhunters work, you are more or less concerned about your bottom line. I am a tool that could be of use and you do not wish to piss me off and make me fall off your radar again. I have retained some of the powers that my sister has not, and I possess more Shadowhunter abilities than she does."

Malachi seemed taken aback by my outburst, "Mr. Wolfwright, you seem to insinuate that Shadowhunters do not respect and protect Downworlders, but we have the Accords to help assure just that."

"I know what the Accords are Malachi, I was there when they were created."

"Yes, I suppose that is true," Malachi toyed his fingers, "Well, it is good to see that you have returned to us."

"I haven't really returned to you. I am just active as a Warlock in New York. I am here to warn of a certain Shadowhunter's return. Valentine, I saw him, and he attacked me Malachi. Mark was there too, and something needs to be done. You let him run amuck before, but you can't do it again. You would lose your position as the Consul."

"Is that a threat?" Malachi stood from his seat, "I don't accept threats from Downworlders."

"One minute you are sunshine and rainbows, but now you are doom and gloom," I got up and matched his stance, "Don't threaten me Malachi, I assure you that you won't win. I can steal the air from your throat before you can even shout for your guards."

"Hey, calm down," Mark pushed me back and stood between us, "We shouldn't be fighting. We came looking for the Consul's support, not to start a war."

"Mark, it was clear from the moment we entered his office Malachi wanted me for my power not to 'catch up' or offer me a seat on the Council. What is it this time Malachi? You want me to transform into a vampire to tell you if they have been breaking the law? Another Warlock to tell you if they are dealing in black magic?"

"No," Malachi's glare was still sharp, but he took a seat prompting for me to follow, "We wanted you to transform into Jocelyn Fairchild. We have reason to believe that she hid the Mortal Cup, and, if what you say is true, it isn't safe out there."

"I don't know if I could?" I crossed my arms, "Her apartment caught fire, and she is nowhere to be found. It is believed that Valentine kidnapped her and is trying to extract that same information. I would need something that was meaningful of her's in order to complete the transformation."

"I'm sure there must be something left," he looked to Mark, "Return to the Institute and tell them that I want a search team to look through the apartment. We have to find the cup before anyone else."

"But why should we trust you?" I paused before exiting his office, "The Cup is powerful, as you said, but you if your hands aren't the right ones either. There was a time when the Clave used the Cup to convert any Mundane that looked healthy enough. Kidnapping them from their families, destroying relationships, not to mention murdering those that couldn't survive the change."

Malachi visibly flinched at my words, "Times have changed and people change."

"Yes, but Shadowhunters team to change even less than Mundanes," I scowled, "I will go and find the Cup. Whoever proves that they can be trusted will get it from more or you can pry it from my cold, dead, hands." I grinned and stormed out. Mark bowed apologetically to the Consul before chasing after me.

"You can't talk to the Consul that way," Mark shook his head, "He could have us locked up, or have you killed."

"I'd like to see him try," I laughed, "I wasn't kidding you know, Shadowhunters have used the Cup to do horrible things. Why do you think Valentine wants it so badly? You want me to believe that Malachi would protect it if we handed it over? I don't think so."

"I know, but the Consul is still in charge of all Shadowhunters, and that includes me. One word from him and I could be stripped of my marks."

"He wouldn't do that without the cup."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Because, they can't create new Shadowhunters without it, and you are clearly one of the best," I gave him a wink and he flushed.

"I'm not that great, I'm no Jace Herondale."

"And I'm glad that you aren't," I pulled him in for a quick kiss before we exited the Gard. We walked through the gate and passed a couple of kids that were arguing in the square that had the statue of the angel.

"Mark?!" a girl's voice called out, "Is that you?" One of the kids ran over with the other following her. She appeared to be in her early teens with long black hair that fell straight behind her shoulders. The boy looked like a mini version of Mark, probably around the fourth-grade level, with short black hair that slightly covered the top of his ears.

"Lala? Ethan? What are you doing here?" Mark gasped giving them each a hug.


	12. Chapter 12

**12** " **In the kingdom of glass everything is transparent, and there is no place to hide a dark heart."** **~ Vera Nazarian, The Perpetual Calendar of Inspiration**

 _It was dark outside as we gathered in the Accords Hall. It was a room of all white, lined with marble. A large fountain in the shape of a mermaid stood in the middle. It was 1991 and time to sign the Ninth Accords. The Downworlder Representatives all seemed hesitant as we waited for the proceedings to begin. I especially kept my eye on Valentine who seemed to be grinning rather sharply from the sidelines. After negotiations were made the Accords were brought out to be signed. It was then that I saw the flash of black metal as Valentine pulled a sword. The doors behind me opened as a rush of Werewolves, Vampires, Faeries, and Warlocks filled the Hall, shedding blood from both sides._

I bolted upright in bed out of my nightmare. The sheets were dampened with sweat as I peeled myself away and drudged to the bathroom to shower. As I stepped out of the shower I was greeted by the fragrant aroma of coffee. I slipped a light blue v-neck over my head and made my way to the kitchen where Mark was sitting at the breakfast bar with Magnus, sipping coffee.

"Good morning," I smiled and Mark looked back at me, "You're here early."

"I wouldn't want your trying to sneak off without me," he laughed, "Also, Magnus asked me to come early. He had a few questions."

"Questions?" I raised my eyebrows, "Or was he sharing embarrassing stories?"

"As much as I love that idea, alas I did not share any stories," Magnus sipped his coffee, "But if you would like me to, I am sure I can think of something to share." He grinned slyly.

"No thank you, that was not an invitation. I do a good enough job embarrassing myself, I do not need assistance."

"Now," Magnus set his cup down and stood from his stool, "I expect you both to not take any unnecessary risks. Come back safely in one piece, and do not require me to recruit a search party. I have enough on my plate trying to ward the city from Valentine."

"Ward the city?" I raised my brow, "What do you mean?"

"While I am alive Valentine will neither be able to leave or enter my city. If he is here still he will not go to another city, and if he has left, I won't be allowing him back."

"Magnus, that is some serious magic," I was in disbelief, "You can't possibly hold off like this on your own. Perhaps I should stay to help."

"I am the High Warlock of Brooklyn," Magnus cracked his fingers, "I can handle keeping my city safe. If I need help I can contact Catarina. You need to go appease the Consul."

"Okay, but send for me if Valentine causes any more problems."

"Will do," Magnus held up his hand to form a glistening portal in the center of his living room, "That should take you just outside of Alicante. They don't really let people portal into the city."

"Thank you," Mark shook Magnus's hand, "Good luck today."

"You as well," Magnus smiled and ushered us through the portal sealing it shut behind us.

The living room was a blur behind us as we lurched forward into the land of Idris. We stood on a cobblestone street facing a city that resembled Venice and Rome. Surrounding it were large towers that glistened in the sunlight, like glass. There was a guard station set up near the entrance manned by a couple of Shadowhunters.

"Hello, Jeffrey Wolfwright and Mark Nighthunter here to meet with the Consul," I told them, showing my stele.

Their brows furrowed in surprise, "You're Jeff Wolfwright?" They looked me over, "The Warlock?"

"Sure, I'm also a Shadowhunter, but call me whatever you want."

"Alright, I'll take you to the Consul's quarters," the larger of the two men stepped out from their post, "Follow me."

We entered the city on a large path, passing two of the towers at the entrance. I felt an odd tingle through my body as we entered through the wards. We passed a large statue of an angel wielding a sword and holding a chalice in his left hand which appeared to be levitating. Finally we crossed a river and I saw the Gard towering up ahead. It resembled a rather bland rendition of a fairy-tale palace with numerous towers, some cylindrical, others were rectangular. The gates of the Gard are tall and wrought from a combination of silver and cold iron covered in calligraphic interpretations of Marks. On either side are stone statues known colloquially as the Guardians, warrior-angels, holding a carved sword and standing above dying creatures meant to represent the demonic enemies of the Nephilim. It had been decades since I entered the Gard. Charlotte Branwell had been Consul at the time, and was a good friend of mine. I unfortunately did not keep up with her children much after she passed, but now I know of Clary and her mother. Mark was looking at me with a slightly puzzled look.

"Are you ready?" he asked, "Or perhaps I should ask if you are okay?"

"Ready for?" I paused and looked at the guard who seemed to be glaring at me.

"You are to enter and go meet with the Consul."

"Oh, right…" I paused, "Yes, very well, thank you for showing us. I have been to see the Consul before, so I am certain I can find my way."

The man's glare stabbed me a final time before he proceeded back to his post. Mark took my hand and looked into my eyes, "Are you okay, you kinda zoned out there."

"Yes, I was just reminiscing I suppose. It has been a while since I was last here, and it was in better circumstances."

"It will be okay," Mark smiled, "You haven't done anything wrong, and I am here."

"Yes, thank you," I gave his hand a squeeze as we walked through the gates and entered the Gard. The walls inside were carved with angelic runes that lit the windowless halls. There were no paintings or tapestries like there would be in the Institutes, just eloquently carved runes.

"Mr. Wolfwright," a sharp voice greeted us as we rounded the corner of the hall. A man stood at the end with a very angular face. His short blonde hair was slicked back and a dark black rune was visible on his neck, "Please, right this way."

Mark and I strode toward him confidently and slowed to a halt in front of him, "Malachi Dieudonné, lovely to see you." I managed to force a believable smile and shook his hand, "This is Mark Nighthunter of the New York Institute."

He nodded to Mark who bowed his head slightly, "Thank you for coming to meet with me. We haven't heard from you in ages, some even thought you to be dead."

"I'm sure that if you spoke to Tessa at the Spiral Labyrinth she would have told you that I was alive and well. I have kept in touch with her over the years."

"Of course, of course," Malachi lead us into his office and gestured for us to be seated, "We just thought you would be more involved in your heritage."

"My heritage?" I almost laughed, "So you thought I would get involved in Shadowhunter politics? What did you want me to be your next Inquisitor? I didn't realize you were so fond of me."

He frowned, "No, no, I just thought you would attend some of our meetings perhaps in your sister's stead."

"I'm sorry, but my sister and I haven't exactly been worshiped or appreciated by the Shadowhunters," I felt my blood begin to boil, "Mostly chastized and looked down upon as lesser beings. Malachi you are not going to fool me with your delusions of friendship. I know how Shadowhunters work, you are more or less concerned about your bottom line. I am a tool that could be of use and you do not wish to piss me off and make me fall off your radar again. I have retained some of the powers that my sister has not, and I possess more Shadowhunter abilities than she does."

Malachi seemed taken aback by my outburst, "Mr. Wolfwright, you seem to insinuate that Shadowhunters do not respect and protect Downworlders, but we have the Accords to help assure just that."

"I know what the Accords are Malachi, I was there when they were created."

"Yes, I suppose that is true," Malachi toyed his fingers, "Well, it is good to see that you have returned to us."

"I haven't really returned to you. I am just active as a Warlock in New York. I am here to warn of a certain Shadowhunter's return. Valentine, I saw him, and he attacked me Malachi. Mark was there too, and something needs to be done. You let him run a muck before, but you can't do it again. You would lose your position as the Consul."

"Is that a threat?" Malachi stood from his seat, "I don't accept threats from Downworlders."

"One minute you are sunshine and rainbows, but now you are doom and gloom," I got up and matched his stance, "Don't threaten me Malachi, I assure you that you won't win. I can steal the air from your throat before you can even shout for your guards."

"Hey, calm down," Mark pushed me back and stood between us, "We shouldn't be fighting. We came looking for the Consul's support, not to start a war."

"Mark, it was clear from the moment we entered his office Malachi wanted me for my power not to 'catch up' or offer me a seat on the Council. What is it this time Malachi? You want me to transform into a vampire to tell you if they have been breaking the law? Another Warlock to tell you if they are dealing in black magic?"

"No," Malachi's glare was still sharp, but he took a seat prompting for me to follow, "We wanted you to transform into Jocelyn Fairchild. We have reason to believe that she hid the Mortal Cup, and, if what you say is true, it isn't safe out there."

"I don't know if I could?" I crossed my arms, "Her apartment caught fire, and she is nowhere to be found. It is believed that Valentine kidnapped her and is trying to extract that same information. I would need something that was meaningful of her's in order to complete the transformation."

"I'm sure there must be something left," he looked to Mark, "Return to the Institute and tell them that I want a search team to look through the apartment. We have to find the cup before anyone else."

"But why should we trust you?" I paused before exiting his office, "The Cup is powerful, as you said, but you if your hands aren't the right ones either. There was a time when the Clave used the Cup to convert any Mundane that looked healthy enough. Kidnapping them from their families, destroying relationships, not to mention murdering those that couldn't survive the change."

Malachi visibly flinched at my words, "Times have changed and people change."

"Yes, but Shadowhunters team to change even less than Mundanes," I scowled, "I will go and find the Cup. Whoever proves that they can be trusted will get it from more or you can pry it from my cold, dead, hands." I grinned and stormed out. Mark bowed apologetically to the Consul before chasing after me.

"You can't talk to the Consul that way," Mark shook his head, "He could have us locked up, or have you killed."

"I'd like to see him try," I laughed, "I wasn't kidding you know, Shadowhunters have used the Cup to do horrible things. Why do you think Valentine wants it so badly? You want me to believe that Malachi would protect it if we handed it over? I don't think so."

"I know, but the Consul is still in charge of all Shadowhunters, and that includes me. One word from him and I could be stripped of my marks."

"He wouldn't do that without the cup."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Because, they can't create new Shadowhunters without it, and you are clearly one of the best," I gave him a wink and he flushed.

"I'm not that great, I'm no Jace Herondale."

"And I'm glad that you aren't," I pulled him in for a quick kiss before we exited the Gard. We walked through the gate and passed a couple of kids that were arguing in the square that had the statue of the angel.

"Mark?!" a girl's voice called out, "Is that you?" One of the kids ran over with the other following her. She appeared to be in her early teens with long black hair that fell straight behind her shoulders. The boy looked like a mini version of Mark, probably around the fourth grade level, with short black hair that slightly covered the top of his ears.

"Lala? Ethan? What are you doing here?" Mark gasped, but gave them each a hug.


	13. Chapter 13

**13** " **We make our own monsters, then fear them for what they show us about ourselves."  
~Mike Carey, The Unwritten, Vol. 1: Tommy Taylor and the Bogus Identity**

"We could ask you the same thing," Lala placed her hands on her hips, "I thought you were in New York."

"I am, I'm training there. I just had to come here for a meeting with the Consul," Mark explained, "We have some things happening in New York."

"What kind of things?" Ethan seemed so energetic that he was practically bouncing, "And who is he?" He looked up at me, curiously.

"This is Jeff, he is my boyfriend," Mark stated firmly, "He has a unique set of skills that the Consul wanted to discuss, and he is helping us figure things out in New York."

"Is he a Warlock?" Lala examined me, "He is isn't he? There is no amount of product that can hold your hair up that well without leaving a glossy finish."

"Yes I am," I snapped and her hair spiraled into a well mad bun atop her head, followed by a flower that I snatched from a nearby try which interlaced itself into the hair. The center of the flower was a dark purple and the petals faded to a lighter purple at their rounded tips.

"Me next," Ethan cheered, "I want something cool!"

"Okay," I laughed and looked around. Beneath a tree near where the flower came from was a collection of various twigs. I snapped and they floated into the air, twisting and turning around each other. Once they finished there was a little robot figurine that was able to choppily move its arms and legs.

"Wow!" he exclaimed, moving the arms back and forth then running around in circles with it.

"Alright, I approve," Lala said after a long look in a compact mirror, "Now, why can't I go with you to New York."

"Because you aren't of age yet," Mark crossed his arms, "And it is dangerous there. We have a serious problem right now, and I don't want to worry about either of you possibly getting hurt."

"I could totally help though," she took out a small dagger from inside her boot and flung it forward sinking it several inches into the tree behind us, "See, I have been practicing."

"That's great, but the answer is still no. Underage Shadowhunters must stay with their families until they reach the age to study abroad."

"That isn't fair! The Institute is so boring without you. All Dad does is push us into more training. He won't let us go on missions or attend any of the meetings."

"That is their decision to make Lala, not mine and certainly not yours."

"Ugh! I'm only a couple of years younger than you."

"Umm, you are four years younger than me Lala. You're still a kid."

"No, Ethan is a kid," she gestured to the boy as he made the wooden robot march along in front of the statue, "I am practically a grown up."

"How about I give you something?" I interrupted their argument and summoned over a piece of ivy that was growing on the side of a nearby shop. It fluttered down into my hand and formed itself into a bracelet. I clasped my hands over it and focused a bit of my magic into the bracelet before handing it over to her, "It is enchanted so that if you or your brother are in any danger, it will burn and create a portal for you to get to each other."

"You can do that?" her eyes grew wide as she slipped it around her wrist.

"I can do many things," I winked and felt Mark kick me in the shin, "Hey!"

"Thank you, I guess this will at least make me feel better."

"You're welcome," I smiled, "Hey little man, come over here." Ethan hurried over and I gestured for him to pass me the robot. "Nothing is cooler than a superhero right?"

"Yeah, like the Gundams!"

"That's right!" I placed two fingers on the chest of the robot and it began to glow, "Now, if you are ever in trouble this guy is going to be a superhero and keep you safe."

"Really?!"

"Promise," he gave me a hug that made my chest warm up before running to play.

"Well, we have to get going," Mark told them, giving them each a big hug, "We'll see eachother again soon."

They saw us off at the entrance to Idris, and I opened a portal. A breeze seemed to pull us in as the bright colors of Alicante faded behind us and blurred to form the dark grays of New York. The fresh mountain air in our lungs was quickly replaced with the smog. In front of us stood the grand Cathedral of the Institute. The wrought iron gates stood ominously as we approached and Mark creaked them open.

"I wonder if everyone is still here?" Mark asked as he began to open the front door, but was startled when it opened so easily. On the other side stood all of the Shadowhunters of the New York Institute other than Maryse, Robert, and Hodge.

"Welcome back," Jace greeted us, "You're just in time for our mission."

"Mission? You need every Shadowhunter here for a mission?"

"I think I know where the Mortal Cup is," Clary began, "My mom hid it somewhere at our place."

"What a coincidence," I laughed, "The Consul sent us to go and retrieve the Cup."

"He can't have it," Clary retorted, "My mom had to have wanted it hidden for a reason. I can't let the Clave have it."

"Great, neither can I," I smiled, "So we are on the same page."

"What about you guys?" Mark looked to Zach and Amanda, "Do you really want to keep this from the Clave and the Consul?"

"Some things are above the law," Amanda grabbed Zach's hand, "We don't believe in converting Mundanes just to have more Shadowhunters."

"Our relationship with the Downworlders is important," Zach argued, "They will not accept us handing the Cup over to the Clave. Tensions are high right now, and doing that could start a war."

"I don't know if it would go that far," I thought for a moment, "Perhaps with the faeries and Vampires. They aren't as understanding as us."

"Clary's apartment where she lived with her mom is likely an extremely dangerous zone," Alec explained, "I am sure that Valentine has demons keeping guard there."

I heard a car door slam behind us as I turned to see Simon, Clary's friend, coming through the gate, "What is he doing here?"

"I thought that we may need a ride, so I called him," Clary admitted, "Granted, I didn't know that there was going to be this many of us going."

"I don't think we can all fit in the van," Simon looked back over his shoulder at his band mate's van.

"Luckily we have me, and I have magic," I raised my hand, and summoned another glimmering portal. I felt a slight ache in my bones, but did my best not to show it. "Now, everyone go on. The later it gets the stronger demons are, so we have to get there while we still have daylight."

Everyone filed through the portal leaving Mark and I as the last ones, "After you my boyfriend." I winked at him and he flushed, "I didn't realize that we were official."

"I'm sorry," he turned away, "I shouldn't have assumed."

"It's alright," I gave him a kiss before pulling him through the portal.

The dingy brick apartment building loomed in front of us upon exiting. All of the Shadowhunters had various weapons at the ready when the heavy smell of iron filled our nostrils. There were demons here, and likely many of them.

"We'll check upstairs in the apartment," Amanda stated, "We'll meet you back here if we find anything that might have belonged to Clary's mom or that resembles the cup." With that, the LA Shadowhunters proceeded up a metal staircase outside of the building.

"What will we be doing?" I looked to Clary, "I assume you have something to go off of."

"It's our old neighbor, Madame Dorothea, she has this set of tarot cards that my mom hand painted for her. Now that my memories are coming back, I remember a card that looked like the Mortal Cup."

"Sounds like a good place to start to me," Jace grinned.

"This Dorothea," Alec paused as we made our way up the flight of stairs to the lady's apartment, "There has to be more to her than just an innocent Mundane."

"There is," I explained, "I thought that you all would know that this place is a Downworld Sanctuary. Well, it was. It seems that a lot of the wards that were protecting the place are gone now. Likely thanks to Valentine. Madame Dorothea was involved in magic. She was no Warlock, but she fancied what we could do. Some of us would entertain her with simple spells and eventually she got this apartment building and offered it as a Sanctuary."

"I never even knew," Clary paused outside the door.

"Well, I think I'll stand guard," Simon interjected, "You know, watch out for Valentine."

"You would only be in our way anyways," Jace muttered.

"You need some way to protect yourself," I looked him over, "You don't seem like the fist fighting type."

"I took archery one summer at Jewish camp."

"Great," I snapped and summoned a bow and a small quiver of arrows.

"Thanks," he seemed nervous, but took the weapon from my shaking hands.

"Okay, we should knock," Isabelle rapped her fist against the door.

"Go away!" a rough voice called through the door.

"Dorothea, it is me, Clary."

"I don't care who you are, leave!"

"Please, Dorothea it is about my mom Jocelyn. You could help me find her."

The door opened a crack and they eye of an elderly woman peeked through, "What about Jocelyn?"

"I believe that she may have given you a clue as to where she might be, and I would really appreciate it if you would let my friends and I inside so we can talk."

Her eye seemed to widen slightly as she shuffled aside, letting the door open slightly. The apartment was extremely dark. The windows were all draped with heavy curtains. Once everyone was inside, we could finally make out the figure of Madame Dorothea in the dim candle light. Her badger-striped hair was tied in a messy bun on top of her head, and wore masses of vibrant-colored silk with gold chains on her wrist and throat, and chandelier earrings. Her feet dragged across the floor in faded carpet slippers as she prepared a pot for tea.

"Thank you so much for letting us in," Clary smiled at Madame Dorothea, "Did you want me to have Luke come by to fix your porch light again or clean out your skylight?"

Everyone looked up to see that there was indeed a skylight near the center of the room, but it looked like someone had thrown paint all over it.

"No!" Dorothea declined quickly, "The darkness helps me connect with the various planes."

"Can we just get what we need and get back to the Institute?" Alec hurried.

"You wouldn't humor an old lady and stay for tea?" Dorothea cackled as she poured some tea shakily into cups.

"I think we'll pass," Isabella declined on Alec's behalf, "Not really the tea type."

"Dorothea," Clary walked over to her, "Do you still have the tarot cards my mother gave you?"

"Of course!" she dragged her feet and dug through a drawer until she removed a dark felt bag, "Did you want me to read your fortune?"

"We just want to see one card," Jace took a seat, "The one with a cup on it."

"Oh," her eyes widened, almost bulging out of her head, "The Ace of Cups." Dorothea thumbed through the cards until she removed one and set it on the table near the center of the room. We all gathered round to see the card which did bear an uncanny resemblance to the Mortal Cup. It was a golden chalice marked with runes and a red gemstone on the stem. Clary removed her Stele from her boot and traced a rune on the back of her right hand. It glowed bright enough to make us flinch back as she reached for the card and her hand sank into the card. Once she removed it she was holding the Cup.

"It worked!" Jace gasped, "It's really the Cup."

"Could I see it?" Madame Dorothea asked, her hands outstretched, "Your mother gave it to me after all."

"I'm sorry, but you can't," it was Alec this time. He had gotten over to them without me even noticing and stood between Clary and Dorothea, "This is very important to Shadowhunters I'm sorry."

"Oh, you will be," Dorothea began to laugh uncontrollably. Her eyes rolled back into her head and her teeth began to fall out. Her whole body seemed to expand until she was at least nine feet tall with tallon like fingers. Her flesh looked rotten and badly bruised, in fact she barely looked the same. She was now a creature of nightmares, a Greater Demon.

"Abbadon," I raised my hands and shot sparks towards him, but he simply cackled.

"You can't do anything to me Warlock. Especially in your condition," he raised his pointed fingers at me and I felt my energy begin to drain.

Alec, like lighting, pulled out his Seraph blade and ignited it, "Gavreel." He striked out, but Abbadon was faster. His hand swiped at him and Alec flew into a cabinet across the room.

Mark was at my side now, Stele in hand, tracing energy runes upon my forearm. "Are you okay?"

"Don't… worry… about… me…" I let out between heavy breaths, "You have to keep him from getting the Cup."

Jace was next to Clary and was matching Abbadon blow for blow with his Seraph blade. Isabelle was over Alec, who had a large gash across his chest that was bleeding profusely. She was tracing healing runes, but nothing seemed to be effective.

Mark removed his crossbow from his back and loaded it with an arrow aiming for Abbadon's chest. It shot quickly through the air with a streak of light flowing behind it. However Abbadon managed to block Jace with one hand and smash away the arrow with the other.

"Your father would be disappointed in your friends," Abbadon looked to me, "Shadowhunters are against your blood."

"Shadowhunters are my blood," I spat, which only seemed to anger him. He managed to land a blow on Jace, sending him crashing into the tea set. Clary had a tight grip on the Cup and was backing away.

"What did you do to Madame Dorothea?" she tried to stall.

"I killed her you silly girl. I have been playing her role in hopes that someone would come by to help me find the Cup, and here you are," he was grinning maniacally, "Now I am going to kill you and take the Cup."

"No," Mark remove a seraph blade from his waist, "ZURIEL!" It ignited brightly at its name and he dashed towards Abbadon.

"I guess I'll have to kill you first," Abbadon slashed out his arm and sent a purple substance flying towards Mark.

"Look out!" I attempted to sit up, but collapsed backward. I raised my hand feebly and managed to send a table in the way to absorb the acidic venom.

"You'll join him soon enough!" he roared, "You can join your father in…"

It was then that the door to the apartment opened and a familiar voice called out, "Clary?!" It was Simon, and he was holding his bow and arrow at the ready.

"A Mundane?" Abbadon grinned, "You don't stand a chance."

Simon did not have the improved sight of Shadowhunters, and his arrow flew past Abbadon's head. Leaving him laughing, but it didn't last long as it seemed Simon's shot hit it's true target. The skylight shattered above them and sunlight poured into the room.

Abbadon's laughter had turned into blood curdling screams as he attempted to back into the darkest corner of the room. Clary and Simon continued to reveal the windows throughout the apartment, until there was no darkness left. Abbadon let out a final cry as he folded inward upon himself, disappearing into a pile of ash.

 **Moments Ago**

 **Amanda's Point of View**

Upon entering the apartment, the destruction was clear. The walls were black with ash from the fire. Furniture that survived the inferno were splinters of wood and cotton across the floor.

"I don't think that there is going to be much left," Nate pushed aside some debris with his foot and examined the wall where a picture frame use to hang, "This place is a disaster."

"We have to try," I encouraged, as I knocked on the wall listening for some kind of hollow or secret storage, "The Cup has to be here somewhere."

"Unless Valentine already has it," Emma was paging through a charred book on paintings through the ages.

"If he had it, we would be in more trouble than we currently are," Zach was holding a stone that glowed brightly in his hand as he peered down the hall. Oddly, all of the doors were closed to the rooms, "I don't think that we are alone."

Everyone reached for their weapons belt and unsheathed their blades. Initially they looked like dull tubes with blunt edges.

"Afriel," Emma called out, and her blade seemed to come to life. It extended out from the handle and radiated a bright light from its clear blade.

Nate did similarly calling out, "Chamuel."

"Hamaliel," I strengthened myblade.

Zach was the last to light his blade, "Haamiah." The entire apartment was now aglow with the radiance of the Seraph Blades. Zach proceeded down the hall and kicked the door to the right open. It collapsed inward and the smell of iron flooded from the room. The bedding was shredded across the floor. Upon the bed was a creature that looked like the cross between a salamander and a scorpion. Its scaled body had a cluster of pitch black eyes at the head and barbed tail and six insectile legs. It was excreting a black slime from its scales that covered the bed and oozed down the sides. Its head jolted as we entered the room and it lunged to attack.

Zach thrusted his blade upward at the demon as it struggled, whipping its tail at me. I sliced with my own blade and the tip of the tail fell to the floor, melting into a puddle of ichor, demon blood. Its pinchers near its mouth were clenching at Zach as he kicked out, sending it flying back onto the bed. When there was a loud crashing sound behind us.

The wall in the hallway had broken and a decaying figure emerged from the restroom that was on the other side. It looked like something out of a horror film with clothes that were torn to pieces and skin that had gaping holes. It had long hair that lacked any color, and black pits where the eyes used to be. It was making guttural noises that were unintelligible as it approached. Nate spun on his heel and removed some throwing knives from a pouch at his waist. They sunk in to the creature, but he didn't slow his approach.

Emma reached for her belt and removed a small cylinder. With a slight twist it extended out on both ends before locking into place just taller than she was. It seemed metallic in nature and had runes etched into it that glowed brightly. She stabbed it forward at the creature, and he flinched backwards. She progressed forward, gracefully turning the staff in her hand as she dealt blows to the monster. Nate finally issued the final blow, slicing off its head with his Seraph Blade. A dark red pool of blood formed on the floor where it collapsed.

"What is a Forsaken doing here?" Amanda looked down.

"Likely because of Valentine," Zach replied as he approached the bed, blade at the ready.

"It wasn't as hard as I thought," Emma grinned, "I guess I am stronger than I look."

"Forsaken are weak," Nate corrected, "I read about them in the library back in L.A. They are Mundanes that someone attempted to convert into Shadowhunters, but they weren't strong enough for the change or it wasn't performed properly. They can only truly handle simple tasks, but can be used to forge an army with their sheer numbers."

The demon that was regaining its composure was now crawling its way back towards them. Its tail had restored itself, and it was ferociously snapping its pinchers. I reached for my waist and removed a long cable-like object from it. Once it was fully removed it became obvious that it was a glowing whip. I lashed it out at the demon and wrapped around one of its legs. When I pulled upward the demon let out a screech as its leg came off. It limped forward as I lashed out again, removing another leg. It was Zach that dealt the final blow, lunging his Seraph Blade through the demon's chest, spraying ichor down like acidic rain. It collapsed to the floor as its body began to shrivel, folding inward until all that remained was a puddle of black blood.

The whole floor began to shake and a loud crash could be heard from downstairs.

"The others," Zach darted for the door with the three of us in tow as we exited the apartment. We took the steps two at a time as we approached Madame Dorothea's. The door was open, and the stench of blood and demons was so heavy that it was almost nauseating. Simon was standing just inside the entryway. Clary and Jace were on one side of the room, cup in hand. Mark was standing over Jeff, near the center of the room, Stele in hand applying an energy rune. On the right was Isabelle, who appeared to be sobbing, Alec in her lap and a puddle of red growing slowly around her. Jace darted over to them, removing his Stele from his belt, and began to apply various runes to Alec. They all seemed to fade as quickly as he could apply them, providing no relief to Alec's pain.

 **Jeff's Point of View**

I pushed Mark's hand away as I felt a small amount of energy return to me, "I'm alright." I managed to stand, "We need to worry about Alec. He took a full blow from a greater demon." I walked over to them, Jace shot me a sharp look.

"Do something," he said with a tone somewhere between demanding and pleading.

"I'll try my best," I placed my hands above Alec and blue sparks trickled down from my fingers. The gash at his neck and chest began to heal as he continued to breath heavily. I felt my eyelids droop, but I forced them back open. My magic began to fade as his wounds healed.

"You did it," Isabelle was smiling, "He's going to be…" She didn't get to finish that statement as his wounds opened once again, and the blood began to trickle out, albeit slower than before.

"I'm sorry. There is something wrong with me. Abbadon must have done something to lessen my powers. We need to get him back to the Institute. Your tutor, Hodge, has a large collection of herbs there and I can perhaps whip up a remedy."

I raised my hand to the wall behind Isabelle and the paint began to peel away, revealing the swirling magic of a portal. Jace carefully lifted Alec and darted through. Followed by Isabelle, Clary, and Simon.

"You said Abbadon?" Amanda paused before the portal, "There was a Greater Demon here?"

"Yes, he must have been sent by Valentine, or just drawn here by the Cup."

"Why would Valentine ally with demons?" Emma questioned, "Didn't he want to rid the world of anything close to a demon."

"I think he would do anything to get his hands on the Cup," Mark grabbed my hand, "We don't know what he is capable of or what promises he is making."

The rest of us made our way through the portal and arrived at the Institute. Hodge was waiting outside the door, his face set as he saw Jace carrying Alec up the steps.


	14. Chapter 14

**14** " **It is easier to forgive an enemy than to forgive a friend."  
~William Blake**

Zach, Amanda, Emma, and Nate entered the Institute first in order to go and alert the Clave. The rest of us were in the infirmary with Alec placed on the bed. Isabelle was hovering over him after Hodge had put together an herbal medicine for his wounds. It seemed to have lessened the spread of the poison, but it was designed for poisons of lesser demons. Hodge had dismissed himself to the library with Clary and Jace as I rummaged through the cabinets looking for any herbs that could help until the Silent Brothers arrived. I found a bottle with an orange powder labeled Turmeric which can be used for pain. I then created a paste by combining it with Lavender and Wintergreen Essential Oil, and some witch hazel that I ground using a mortar and pestle. I brought the mortar over and used a cotton pad to apply the paste to Alec's wound.

He flinched as the cool paste was applied. "Is he okay?" Isabelle stood, "If you're hurting him, I'll be hurting you."

"I promise I am doing my best to help," I assured, "This is going to relieve his pain and lessen the inflammation. If I had enough of my magic left I would be able to extract the poison myself."

"What about Magnus?" Mark asked, "Could we send for him?"

"I would have to send a fire message which is easier if I am by a fireplace. Since I am working with limited energy right now."

"There is a fireplace in the library," Isabelle noted, "You could go there. I'll watch him."

"Alright, I'll be back soon." Mark and I exited the infirmary and navigated the halls until we reached the large wooden doors of the library. I attempted to open them, but they appeared to be locked. Mark made the next attempt, but they still wouldn't budge.

"I didn't think that these doors could lock," Mark was puzzled, "I mean, why would you lock a library?"

"Hodge, Jace, and Clary should be in there right?" I knocked loudly on the door, "Maybe it is just jammed and they can get it from their side. I'm sure it is an old door." There was no answer, so I knocked again. Mark tried the handle again with more force. He began to push against the door with his shoulder trying to get it to budge. "Why don't you try a rune?"

Mark removed his Stele and began to trace a marking on the door. It flowed from the tip into a stylized shape of a padlock that had been cut open. The was a clash of metal as the door creaked open and we were finally able to make it inside. We entered behind Clary and we were staring at a scene with Hodge facing Valentine who was standing in front of a portal with Jace unconscious at his feet.

"What about the promise you made me?" Hodge pleaded.

"I made no promises," Valentine spat, "You would have called to give me the cup whether you received anything in return or not."

"You told me that you would remove my curse if I gave it to you. I betrayed the Lightwoods…"

"The Lightwoods," Valentine laughed, "All this time they could come and go as they please while you were locked to this place. Hardly seems fair to put your faith in them over me."

"It isn't like that."

"You are pathetic," Valentine snapped his fingers and Hodge's hands shot to his chest, clutching for his heart. A thick black fluid could be seen oozing between his fingers as he cried out in pain.

"You monster!" Clary shouted, "He trusted you."

"You know nothing," Valentine glared and his eyes caught Mark and I, "Fraternizing with Warlocks is not what I would expect from my daughter."

Clary turned and noticed us, hope in her eyes. I placed my hands against the invisible wall that separated us from the rest of the library. There was a sharp pain, but I managed to create a slight opening enough for Clary and Mark to dart through. They ran for Valentine who had managed to lift Jace over his shoulder and was making his way back to his portal.

"Stop!" Clary shouted, leaping forward as he turned back to give her one more disappointed glare while the portal closed behind him and Clary landed, face-first, on the stone floor.

Mark was over by Hodge, a small knife raised to the nape of Hodge's neck, "How could you? After all we went through to get the cup, you gave it to Valentine? For what?"

"My freedom!" Hodge snapped, and a medium sized black bird flew down from the second story, talons raised, knocking the knife from Mark's hand and going for his eyes next. Mark batted at it furiously with his fists, but the bird had already landed a few good blows.

Hodge was running towards me, my hands were outstretched. Blue sparks springing from my fingertips, "Call off the bird!"

"Never!" he held out a spiked blue circle, a chakram, and flung it at me. I managed to dodge, but it took a piece of my shirt with it. I felt a stab as I looked down and noticed that he had flung a second one. This one had hit its mark and was embedded into my right ankle drawing blood into a pool on the floor. He was gone now, the library door closed behind him as I muttered to myself, removing the chakram. Clary, after having collected herself, ran to the window and opened it to try and spot Hodge below. The raven left Mark now and flew out into the New York air.

"I see him!" Clary sprinted past me.

"Clary wait, he is dangerous," I shouted after her, but she was already gone. Mark was already at my side, his wounds from the raven were healing as he used his Stele to trace a healing rune above my right ankle. The pain subsided as the cut healed and I was able to stand again.

"Can you walk?" Mark bent to support me as I steadied myself.

"Yes, but I need to take a few days to recover after this. My magic is extremely depleted from everything that has happened. Abbadon managed to take most of what I had recovered during our fight with him. I'm not invincible, and if I keep going like this I could die."

"Then get back to infirmary," Mark instructed, "I can handle things from here."

"I can still help you," I stumbled slightly as we left the library to find Church, the Institute's cat, in the hall.

"Church, please guide him back to the infirmary," Mark instructed, "If he falls get Isabelle." The cat let out an angry meow as it trotted down the hall.

"Please be safe," I gave Mark a gentle peck on the forehead before we parted ways.

 **Mark's Point of View**

I darted through the halls and down the stairway to the main entrance of the Institute. I slammed the doors behind me and leaped from the stairs into a crouch. Once at the street I searched each direction catching a glimpse of fiery orange hair as it rounded the block. I raced after her to see that she was rounding another corner down an alley. I thought my eye caught a dark shape coming from down the street, but I continued after her.

At the end of the alley was Hodge with Clary and I facing him. "Where is Valentine?" Clary demanded, "What does he want with Jace?"

"He would kill me if I told you," Hodge shook his head.

"The Clave will kill you once they find out what you did," I shot a sharp glare.

"You never contacted the Clave did you?" Clary stared at him, "Or the Silent Brothers? Alec will…"

"Don't talk to me about Alec. He will be alright."

"They trusted you," Clary was visibly angry now, "They treated you like family and you betrayed that."

"Valentine…"

"I don't care about Valentine," she spat, "I care about what he is doing to my Mom and now he has Jace as well because of you."

"He won't hurt Jace. You don't understand…"

"I do understand. Valentine is a monster."

He moved fast. Hodge pulled a Chakram from his belt and sent it flying at Clary. I unsheathed my sword, but was stopped when a brown creature darted between Hodge and Clary with a grey stripe along its side. There was a howl of pain as the chakram was buried into the side of a large wolf.

"You," Hodge's eyes widened, "I thought you left town."

The wolf launched at Hodge and the two were a blur of fur and skin as they fought. After a few moments they seperated, Hodge was on the ground in severe pain and the wolf stood on his hind legs as his fur shrunk into his body and a man in a plaid shirt with dark blue jeans stood in its place.

"Luke!" Clary was in shock, "What are you doing here?"

"Watching out for you. I was on my way to the Institute because all of Downworld was buzzing with what happened. When I arrived, I saw you racing out the door and followed."

"You're hurt," Clary looked at the bloody gash across his abdomen, "You need to get to a doctor."

"This is nothing," Luke chuckled, "It will be healed in no time."

"But we don't know where Valentine is," I looked down at Hodge who appeared unconscious, "How are we going to find him?"

"He came from a portal," Clary was deep in thought, "Didn't Magnus say that there are only two permanent portals in New York? One at Dorothea's and I don't imagine he would be there and one at Renwick's."

"But who is Renwick? Another Warlock perhaps?"

Clary fumbled in her pocket and pulled out her phone, "Let me try Simon."

"Simon? Your friend?" Luke was skeptical, "How would he know of Renwick?

Clary placed the phone to her ear, "He wouldn't, but his computer might." The phone rang once before Simon had answered. "Simon, it's me, Clary. I was hoping you could do me a favor. Are you at your computer?" She paused, "Could you look up Renwick's?" There was another long pause. "An abandoned hospital," she repeated his information, "On Roosevelt Island. Thank you Simon. No, it's alright, Luke and Mark are with me. I'll call you later."

She ended the call and turned to Luke, "We have to get to Renwick's."

"I know, but we can't go unprepared," Luke attempted to calm her, "Valentine isn't going to just let us walk in the front door and leave with your mom Clary."

"But Alec is hurt, and Isabelle is taking care of him."

"I didn't mean the Shadowhunters," Luke motioned for us to follow as we exited the alley and went down the street to his pickup.

"You mean your pack," I filled Clary in, "Remember, Luke is in charge of a pack of werewolves here in New York. They have to listen and obey any order that he gives."

"Really?"

"Yes, I try not to play the leader card often, but this is an extenuating circumstance."

After a short ride we pulled in front of what appeared to be an aged police headquarters. However, if you let your eyes rest it looked like a small Chinese Take-Out restaurant called the Jade Wolf. "Why a Take-Out place?" I asked as we entered the front door.

"We figured it would get the least amount of traffic, and some of the cubs like to mess around. They'll even fill a few orders once in a while."

"Sir you're hurt," a girl with light hair that fell just past her shoulders which were covered with a flannel jacket resting on her delicate looking frame, "Let me tend to your wounds."

"I'm alright Gretel," Luke waved her off.

"No, you need those taken care of."

"Alright, can you get Alaric for me though. I have something I need to talk with both of you."

Gretel escorted us to an office where we each took a seat, then she retreated.

"She's seems rather fond of you," Clary looked at Luke, brows raised.

"Gretel is my second in command," Luke explained, "Alaric is my third. She is fairly new, and hasn't really been broken from the formalities."

There was a knock at the door as Gretel returned with a tray of bandages and other medical supplies. Behind her was was a tall man with long gray hair and a muscular build. She began to tend to Luke's wounds.

"We're going after Valentine," Luke instructed Gretel who gave him a stern look.

"But sir, you are not fit to…"

"Gretel, we are going after Valentine. I will be fine," Luke pulled away, "We need to leave now before word gets to him that his location has slipped out. Alaric, ready the pack and we'll be going.

"Luke, are you sure we should bring the whole pack? Won't a large group alert him of our presence?" Clary cautioned.

"Clary, word in the Downworld is that Valentine has been amassing an army. A small group isn't going to stand a chance."

"An army?" I paused, "Of Shadowhunters?"

"That we don't know. I doubt he would be able to get a large group of Shadowhunter supporters past the Clave now." Luke lead the way back out to the truck, "We are going to Renwick's," he instructed the pack of twenty or so people, "Be swift and careful not to give yourself away. We will likely encounter traps of some sort on our way."

Luke got in the truck and we followed suit as we raced down the streets of Manhattan, through Midtown, and across the bridge to Roosevelt Island. Luke pulled over and we all got out, "We're going to have to walk from here. The engine noise would give us away."

Clary and I used our steles to place the runes for stamina, strength, soundless, and agility on our forearms. The black lines flowed from the tip like paint from a brush, etching the swirling symbols on our skins and bringing the strength of the angels through our bodies.

She looked ahead and saw a great stone structure that was decaying badly. There were dim lights that were just bright enough to show that every surface was covered in overgrown ivy. Alaric alongside the other werewolves finally arrived and Clary turned back to look at the hospital however now it seemed to change, like paint peeling away. The lights faded to reveal an oak dusted lawn with a large gothic revival structure that loomed over the trees. The first story windows were dark and shuttered, but light poured from the arches of the third floor windows like sun cresting over a mountain.

"You see it?" Luke came up behind her.

"It looks more like a castle than a hospital."

"Stick with me Clary," he ordered, "The others will protect us."

"What am I supposed to do?" I interrupted, "Stand guard out here. I'm here to fight too." I sliced my seraph blade through the chain and lock that was holding the front gate shut.

"Go," Luke called out to the pack members and they surged forward.

We made it halfway across the lawn before Alaric tilted his head up and paused the group, "The stench of death is heavy in the air." It was then that I noticed dark figures lurking on the front porch, making their way down the steps towards us.

"Forsaken," Luke pushed Clary behind him and the pack closed in around them, beginning to transform from humans into wolves.

I readied my crossbow and aimed ahead as we surged forward and the fight began. A forsaken was rolling on the ground, struggling with one of the pack members who seemed to howl in pain. I tried to steady my hand, but they were going at it too quickly for me to guarantee that I wouldn't accidentally hit the wolf. I saw another one of the corpses lurching down the steps and shot my bolt, the tip sunk into its eye and it let out a gurgling cry before pulling the arrow out.

We continued to move across the lawn that was now being stained with blood. Alaric was now tearing one of the forsaken apart and it was then that one of the creatures managed to get through the protective circle. I almost had a bolt ready to fly when a flash of silver got between it and Clary. Gretel was now rolling and tumbling with the creature, but it was too strong and managed to toss her through the air to crumple at the base of a tree. Luke pushed Clary to Alaric who tried to block her from seeing.

My finger almost pulled the trigger, but my focus was broken when the stench of death overwhelmed me. Somehow a forsaken managed to get to me and rammed me with its shoulder, sending me falling to the ground and my bow skidded from my hand. I reached for it, but heard a cry. Gretel was dead, the lights in her eyes fading to grey. I felt a sharp pain in my side as the forsaken kicked me and I tumbled through the bloody grass. The salt of blood was bitter on my lips as I reached to my side and pulled out a blade, "Leliel" I called out and the blad burned brightly, slashing through the feet of the creature and severing the head from its shoulders.

Luke had defeated the forsaken that had killed Gretel and Alaric hurried Clary up the steps. I dashed after them and met Luke at the base of the steps giving him an apologetic look. "Thank you for taking care of her," Luke turned to Alaric.

"I'm going with you," Alaric fought.

"Alaric no."

"You are the pack leader, I am your second now that Gretel is dead. It would not be right to let you go alone."

"I…" Luke looked at Clary and back at Alaric.

"I'm here too," I slashed my seraph blade through the air, "Professionally trained for this sort of thing."

"I need you out here Alaric, I'm sorry but that's an order."

Alaric gave him a stern look, but stepped aside.

The hospital door was a heavy carved wood with roses and curved runes. It gave in with a popping noise when Luke kicked at it and we hurried inside. We looked back one more time to see a lawn filled with bodies as the door creaked closed.

The entryway was lit with only a single torch and the silence was eerie compared to the sound of battle. The air inside was fresh compared to the humid blood-scented air from outside. Clary was gasping.

"Clary are you alright?" Luke placed a hand on her shoulder.

"It's just, Gretel…"

"She was only a Downworlder."

"Shut up!" Clary almost shouted, "You shouldn't have said that. I don't think like that."

"That's good, I was worried that all that time with the Lightwoods may have rubbed off on you."

"They don't think like that either," I argued, "The kids are all pretty nice. Maryse and Robert may have different opinions, but Alec and Isabelle are great Shadowhunters."

"I'm glad to hear it," Luke tried to remove the torch from its holder, but it wouldn't budge. Clary rummaged in her pocket and pulled out a stone that blazed with light between her fingers when she held it up, "Witchlight?"

"Jace gave it to me."

"It has been years since I have seen witchlight," Luke smiled, "Follow me."

Our shadows were oddly elongated along the walls as the light from the witchlight shone brightly. We found a winding staircase and found an elongated corridor lined with doorways and torches. Clary placed her hand over the witchlight, and it blinked out as she returned it to her pocket.

There were fresh boot prints on the floor leading through the hall. The first room we tried was empty, but must have faced out onto the lawn as the sound of battle was loud through the window. The next room was filled with weapons ranging from broadswords to maces. Moonlight shimmered off the steel blades that lined the tables. "Do you think Valentine uses all of these?" Clary gasped.

"I doubt it," Luke took in a breath admiring the stash, "They are probably for his army." The third room was a bedroom with blue hangings and a persian blue, black, and grey rug. On the bed laid a woman that looked not unlike Clary, but older. She was on her back with one hand thrown carefully across her chest. Her hair spread out across the pillow and she wore a white night dress. Her breaths were regular and quiet. "Mom!" Clary screamed and flung herself forward.

"Wait," Luke threw his arm out to stop her, "We have to be careful."

Clary glared at him, but followed his gaze and noticed that there were silver manacles around Jocelyn's wrists and ankles, the ends of their chains sunk deep into the floor on the sides of the bed. The table next to the bed had numerous tubes and bottles. There was one that linked a vile to Jocelyn's arm and Clary laid across her mom. Luke was beside her and ran his fingers across her shoulder, "She isn't drugged. Some kind of spell I think. I can't get her out though, the manacles are silver."

"The weapons room had axes," Clary remembered they could…"

"Those chains are unbreakable," the voice that spoke from the door was low and gritty. A man stood in the doorway in a robe that was covered in blood, "Greymark, what a nice surprise."

"Blackwell," Luck sneered, "If you're surprised, you're an idiot. I didn't exactly arrive quietly."

Blackwell's cheeks flushed, "Clan leader again are you? Can't break yourself of the habit of getting Downworlders to do your dirty work. Valentine's troops are busy strewing pieces of them across the lawn, and you're up here, safe with your girlfriends." He sneered toward Clary, "That one's a little young for you Lucian."

Clary's hands balled into fists as my throwing knife narrowly missed the tip of Blackwell's nose. He glared at me and seemed ready to lunge.

"I wouldn't exactly call them troops Blackwell," Luke drew his attention back, "Their Forsaken, tormented, once human, beings. If I remember correctly, the Clave looks poorly on all that. I can't imagine they'll be too pleased."

"Damn the Clave!" growled Blackwell, "We don't need them and their half-breed tolerating ways. Besides, the Forsaken won't be Forsaken much longer. Once Valentine uses the cup on them, they'll be Shadowhunters good as the rest of us. Better than the Clave is passing off. Downworlder lovers." He bared his teeth.

"If that is his plan for the cup," muttered Luke, "Why hasn't he done it already? What is he waiting for?"

Blackwell's eyebrows went up, "Didn't you know, he's got his…"

A silky laugh interrupted him. He was dressed all in black, "Enough Blackwell, you talk too much. Interesting move Greymark, I didn't think you would have the stomach to lead your newest clan in on a suicide mission."

"Jocelyn, what has he done with her?

"I thought you didn't care."

"I don't see what he wants with her now," Luke went on, "He's got the cup, she can't be of further use. Valentine was never one for pointless murder. Now murder with a point, that would be a different story."

The man shrugged, "It makes no difference to us what he does with her. She was his wife, perhaps he hates her, that's a point."

"Let her go," said Luke, "And we'll leave with her. Call the clan off, I'll owe you one."

"No!" Clary's furious outburst brought all eyes on her, "Jace is here somewhere. We can't leave him."

Blackwell chuckled, "Jace, never heard of a Jace. Now, I could ask Pangborn to let her out, but I'd rather not. She was always a bitch to me Jocelyn was. Thought she was better than the rest of us. She only married him so that she could turn it around on us all."

"Disappointed you didn't get to marry him yourself Blackwell?" Luke jabbed.

Rage was clear on Blackwell's face, but, in a flash, Luke seized a scalpel from the bedside table and flung it across the room. It flipped twice before sinking, point first, into Blackwell's throat. He gagged and fell to his knees, hand to his throat which was spewing scarlet blood. He opened his mouth to speak, but all that came from it was blood as he toppled forward.

"Oh dear," said Pangborn staring at the fallen body of his comrade, "How unpleasant."

Blood was spreading across the floor as Luke whispered something to Clary. "The keys Pangborn," Luke said.

"Or what? You'll throw a syringe at me? There was only one blade on that table. No," he reached behind him, removing a sword from its sheath, "I'm afraid that if you want the keys you'll have to come and get them. Not because I care for Jocelyn, but only because I've been looking forward to killing you for years."

He stepped forward into the room, his blade flashed, a spear of lightning in the moonlight. Luke stretched a hand out toward Clary, it was elongated and his nails were elongated. He was about to change and Clary darted out of the room. Luke was part wolf now and in a heated battle with Pangborn as I darted with Clary out of the room. We dashed to the weapons room and Clary tried to pull multiple weapons form their spots, but nothing worked. Magic held all of the weapons in place. We made it back to the staircase and decided to proceed up towards the light where we saw a flicker of movement.

We reached the last landing. It was silent without any sound of the battle from outside. Clary seemed drawn to the last room on the left. The room was like something from the past. The walls gleamed as if they had just been polished and the elongated dining room table was set with delicate china. An ornate gold framed mirror was on the far wall between two oil paintings in heavy frames. The plates on the tables were filled with food and at the end of the room stood Jace, lit with the moonlight from the window.

"Jace," Clary gasped. He turned, dropping the curtain. "Jace," she repeated and darted toward him, his arms wrapped tightly around her.

"Clary, what are you doing here?"

"I came for you," her voice was muffled into his shirt.

"You shouldn't have," his grip on her loosened as he took a step back, "My god, you idiot. What a thing to do."

"We should get going," I interrupted the reunion.

"How did you both even find me?" Jace's eyes met mine before returning to Clary.

"Luke," she answered.

"So those are…" he frowned, "You came with the wolf clan?"

"Luke's, he's a Werewolf."

"I know, I should have guessed. Where is he?"

"Downstairs."

"He's going to have to call them off. There's been a misunderstanding."

"What? You kidnapped yourself?" I muttered.

"Come on Jace," Clary yanked at his wrist.

It was then that Clary realized that he did not look like a prisoner. When he was taken his hair was stained with blood and ichor. He had cuts on his arms, but now the were gone, and he was clean.

"You're all bandaged up. Valentine seems to be taking really good care of you," she couldn't believe what she was seeing.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," he said, "My father gave me these clothes."

"Jace, your father is dead."

"No," he answered. She shook her head. "I thought he was, but he isn't. It was all a mistake."

"Is this something Valentine told you? He's a liar Jace. If he is telling you that your father is alive, it is a lie to get you to do what he wants."

"I've seen my father. I talked to him. He gave me this," he tugged on his clean white shirt, "Hodge lied to me, he isn't dead."

Clary looked around the room, "If your father is in this place, then where is he? Did Valentine kidnap him too?"

There was a flicker of light in his eyes, "My father…"

The door behind us creaked open and a man entered the room. It was Valentine, his silvery close cropped hair sheened like a helmet, and his mouth was hard. He wore a waist sheath on his belt and the hilt of a sword protruded from it. "So," he said, "Have you gathered your things?" His hand rested on the sword, "Our Forsaken can only hold off the wolves for so…" His eyes rested on Clary, a flicker of astonishment in his eyes. "What is this?"

"Clary reached for the dagger at her waist and drew her hand back. Jace caught at her wrist.

"No."

"But Jace."

"Clary, this is my father."


	15. Chapter 15

**15** " **If all men are made in God's reflection, then why do some people continue to acknowledge only what is in their part of the mirror? If every man was created equal and in the image of God, then how can any man claim that one race is better than another?"** **~ Suzy Kassem,** _ **Rise Up and Salute the Sun: The Writings of Suzy Kassem**_

"No," Clary protested, "He's lying Jace, he can't be trusted."

"Clary, this is the man that raised me. I've seen him before."

"No, this has to be a trick," Clary kept looking between the two, "You are Michael Wayland's son. The Lightwoods would have known if you…"

"The Lightwoods would only know what they were told. They were so blinded by their love for their former friend that they didn't even stop to think."

"But the ring," Clary argued, "You have the Wayland family ring."

"Funny," Valentine laughed, "How an upside down W looks a lot like an M. Didn't you ever wonder why the Wayland family symbol would be a falling star?"

"Morgenstern means morning star, in reference to the bible. 'How art thou fallen from heaven, O Lucifer, son of the morning! How art thou fallen from heaven, O Lucifer, son of the morning! How art thou cut down to the ground, which didst weaken the nations!'"

"Jace," I interrupted, removing a dagger from my belt, "This man is an enemy to the Clave. We cannot let him go unchecked no matter what his relationship is to you."

"But it was all a misunderstanding," Jace began to argue.

"It was a misunderstanding when he tried to kill all of the Downworlder representatives with his little uprising? Do you even hear yourself?"

"Your mother abandoned you right after you were born," Valentine argued, "She planned the whole thing to destroy our family."

"He's lying Jace," Clary reached out to him.

"How do you know? Why are you so against this?"

"Because she loves you," Valentine grinned, "Jonathan, she's your sister." Jace's eyes widened in shock. "To think, yesterday you thought yourself to be an orphan. Now you have a father, a mother asleep downstairs, and a sister."

There was a loud crashing sound from downstairs and, shortly after, the door to the room opened a Luke stood in the doorway, covered in blood.

"Luke, are you alright?" Clary ran to him and held on to his waist.

"Lucian Greymark," Valentine's grin was borderline maniacal as he turned to Luke, "I see you brought your new underlings here to die. Do you enjoy the scent of their blood?"

Luke didn't meet his eyes. "Luke isn't a monster or a murderer," Clary glared, "You are."

"Clary," Jace still seemed broken underneath his expressionless face.

"You murdered your wife's parents. Not in war, but in cold blood," she said, "And I bet you murdered Michael Wayland and his little boy too. Threw their bones in with her parents so that my mom would think you and Jace were dead. Put your necklace around Michael Waylands neck so that everyone would think his bones were yours. You are the last one that should accuse anyone of being a monster."

Rage distorted Valentine's face, "THAT'S ENOUGH!" He raised his sword, "Jace, get your sister out of the way so that I can kill the monster that she is defending."

For a brief moment Jace hesitated, "Certainly father." He made his way towards Clary, but I darted between them.

"Jace, if you take one more step…"

He raised his leg and his kick landed square in my chest. I felt the air escape my lungs as I collapsed to the ground, "Get out of my way." Jace kicked my seraph blade across the room while I tried to return to my feet, but the room began to spin. Jace caught Clary by the arm and pulled her away from Luke.

"Jace," Clary cried, appalled by his actions.

"Don't," his fingers dug into her arm, "Don't talk to me."

Valentine had managed to knock Luke to his knees, and was towering over him now.

"Leave him alone," Clary cried out.

"Don't look," Jace instructed.

"What? Like you do? Just because you close your eyes and pretend that something doesn't exist doesn't make it not true."

"Clary, stop!" he sounded desperate.

"If I only thought to bring a blade of pure silver I could have dispatched you like I should Lucian."

Jace had his arms around Clary and I was in no condition to get to Valentine in time.

"At least let me die on my feet," Luke huffed.

"You can die on your back or on your knees," Valentine looked at him along the blade, "Only a man deserves to die standing, and you are not a man."

"NO!" Clary shouted.

"Why did you have to make it worse?" Jace argued.

"Why do you have to lie to yourself?"

"I'm not lying! I just want what was good in my life, my father, my family, I can't lose it all again."

Luke was kneeling as Valentine raised the sword. Clary turned back to Jace, and she could see that he was breaking. "You have a family Jace! Family is just the people that love you. THe Lightwoods love you, Alec, Isabelle. Luke is my family, and you are going to make me watch him die? Just like you watched your father die when you were ten years old? Is this what you want Jace? Is this the kind of man you want to be? Like…"

"Like my father," he finished for her, "Get down." He pushed her hard to the floor. Valentine raised the blade high over his head, glowing with the lights from the chandelier.

"Luke!" Clary called out. The blade struck home… into the floor. Jace had moved quicker than any Shadowhunter could move and knocked Luke aside. He faced his father, his face white, but his gaze was steady.

"I think you should leave," Jace advised.

"What did you say?"

Luke got into a sitting position, fresh blood staining the front of his shirt. Jace caressed the hilt of the sword. "I think you heard me father."

"Jonathan Morgenstern," Valentine gritted his teeth.

Quick as lightning Jace removed the blade from the floor and leveled it lightly, the point hovering a few inches below his father's chin. "That's not my name," he said, "My name is Jace Wayland."

Valentine's eyes were fixed on Jace, "Wayland?! You have no Wayland blood. Michael Wayland was a stranger to you."

"So are you," he jerked the sword to the left, "Now move!"

"Never, I will not take orders from a child."

"I am a very well trained child. You taught me well. I only have to move two fingers to cut your throat, did you know that?"

"You're skilled enough," Valentine was still, "You could not kill me. You have always been soft hearted."

"Perhaps he couldn't," Luke was on his feet now, "But I think I could, and I don't think he could stop me."

Valentine's eyes flicked from Jace to Luke. Jace hadn't moved when Luke got up. The tip of the sword still rested below Valentine's chin. "You hear the monster threatening me Jonathan. You side with it?"

"It has a point," Jace said mildly, "I'm not entirely sure I could stop him if he wanted to do you damage. Werewolves heal so fast."

"So," Valentine's lips curled, "Like your mother, you prefer this creature. This half-bred demon thing, to your own blood, your own family."

"You left me when I was a child. You let me think you were dead and sent me away to live with strangers. You never told me I had a mother, sister, you left me alone."

"I did it to keep you safe," Valentine protested.

'If you cared about him; if you cared about blood," Clary protested, "You wouldn't have killed his grandparents. They were innocent."

"Innocent," snapped Valentine, "No one is innocent in a war. They sided with Jocelyn against me. They would have her take my son from me."

"You knew she was going to leave you? Before the Uprising?" Luke was sceptical.

"Of course I knew," Valentine's control had snapped, "I did what I had to do to protect my own, and in the end I gave them more than they deserved. A funeral pyre awarded to only the greatest warriors of the Clave."

"You burned them," said Clary flatly.

"Yes, I burned them."

Jace made a strangled noise, "My grandparents…"

"You never knew them. Don't pretend to a grief you do not feel."

"Steady," Luke placed his hand on Jace's shoulder.

"Jace, we need the Cup," Clary stepped forward, "Or you'll know what he'll do with it."

"The Cup father, where is it?"

"In Idris," said Valentine calmly, "Where you will never find it."

Jace was shaking, "Tell me."

"GIve me the sword," Luke advised him.

"What?"

"Give Luke the sword," Clary was almost close enough to touch him.

Luke had his hand on the sword now and Jace let go, allowing Luke to take his place.

"The Cup is in Idris, I told you."

"If it is in Idris, you used the portal to get it there. I'll go with you to get it back."

Movement could be heard from downstairs and something thudded against the door.

"Move," Luke gestured, "I'll kill you if you force my hand."

"If you wish," Valentine stepped slightly backward and the door blew open into pieces. A grey wolf stood in the doorway with bloody gashes all over its body.

Jace was holding a seraph blade now and I joined him and Clary. Valentine's hand reached for a dagar at his belt and flung it at Luke. "Luke!" Jace cried out, but Luke turned far too slowly. It was then that the wolf darted between them, and the dagger sunk in. Blood splattered his fur and Alaric changed back, dagger sticking from his chest.

"Is this how you are Lucian? Letting others die for you," Valentine glared.

Valentine darted to the far wall and he ran for the mirror. "Stay here," Jace warned as he gave chase after Valentine. Clary stopped only for a moment to grab a dagger that had fallen under the a nearby table and got back up to see Valentine turn, his back against the mirror. He ran his hand along the edges of the mirror's frame.

"I'll go with him to Idris Clary," Jace argued, "Get the Cup back."

"No."

"Do you have a better idea?"

"The Cup and Idris aren't far. Through the looking glass one may say."

"The mirror is the portal," Jace gasped as Valentine stepped aside. The image in the mirror changed like watercolors in a painting. Now there were green fields, trees, a small stone cabin at the end of a path.

"I told you it wasn't far," Valentine was now standing in an arched doorway, his hair rustling in the wind from the other side, "Are you sure you don't miss it Jace?" Jace seemed mesmerized by the portal. "You can still come home."

"That is not my home. This is my home now."

Fury was plain on Valentine's face, "Very well." He took a swift step back through the portal, "Ahhh, home."

"Jace don't," Clary called out to him, "Don't go after him."

"But the cup?"

"Let the Clave get it. If you go through that portal you won't come back. Valentine will kill you. You don't want to believe it, but he will."

"She's right," Valentine grinned, "Do you really think you can win this? Although you have a seraph blade and I am unarmed, I am still stronger than you. I doubt you have it in you to kill me, and you would have to before I give the cup to you."

"I could."

"No, you can't," Valentine grabbed Jace's arm and pressed the blade to his chest, drawing blood, "Press it forward."

Jace was shocked and staggered back. With a suddenness Valentine's fist flung forward and Clary gasped, but it didn't connect with Jace. It hit the service of the portal and it began to splinter. All that could be heard was Valentine's cold laughter as shards of the mirror scattered across the floor. Jace got down and grabbed a shard of the glass, turning it towards Clary.

"Are you alright," Luke stood over them.

"We're fine, what about Alaric?"

"He's dead."

"My father got away with the cup," Jace was dull, "I failed."

Luke brushed shards of glass from his hair and looked at Clary, "He needs you, stay with him." Luke went to the window and opened it, calling out orders to the wolves below.

"It is going to be alright," I knelt next to Jace and Clary.

"He has the Cup. I could have killed him."

"And so could I," I argued.

Clary removed the shard of glass from Jace's hand and blood emerged from the cuts it left in his hand, "Honestly Jace, you should know better than to play with broken glass."

Jace choked out a laugh and pulled Clary into his shoulder. We sat there amongst the glass, laughing, not because it was funny, but because there was nothing else we could do.


End file.
